Pravlox resists a snort at Neva's comment on Blackjack. "Gallent, perhaps, but he might want to find a few brain cells to go with that bravery. Turning his back on the executioner was foolish at best."
Mostly agreed that the ship may not be worth the hassle, and that it just may have been effectively handled by the guard that night, the group decides to turn back to going about conducting whatever business they still had in town. Taking on a more relaxed nature, the walk is actually quite refreshing.
As everyone finds their way back to where they are staying, Pravlox finds a visitor at his door. It is the drunken guard you ran across during the time of the riots. You had pointed him straight, handed him a coin, and earned his respect that day. He is in much better shape for the wear this time. He is shaven, bathed and sober, wearing his uniform crisply. As you near your door, he speaks "Master Pravlox, I'm am sorry to bother you so, but I can't think of anywhere else to turn. Might I speak to you in private?" His face is heavy with worry, and he wrings his hands nervously.
He starts into it as soon as the door closes, "My niece is sick. I don't know what she has and neither does anyone in Trail's End. She's broken out all over in red pocks and can barely keep down food, or even the swill that good-for-nothing herbalist gave her. Her mother's talking about going to the Bank of Abadar, but her family can't afford to pay the prices their clerics would demand. Then I remembered how you and your friends handled yourselves during the chaos of the city, and how compassionate you were when you helped me out, and I figured you could help. Or your friends, if they are willing. A bunch of resourceful folk like you, I'd bet if you don't already have a way to fix this, you must know who can. Surely, you must be able to help me not have to just sit by my my niece suffers, can you help me?" It's obvious by his nervousness, that he can't think of anywhere else to turn.
Pravlox listens quietly and takes a minute to respond, "I will bring it up with my friends in the morning; do you know any other details that might aid us, such as when she caught it, where she might of caught it from, or what she was doing when she came down with it?"
He looks a little worried, and relieved at the same time, "Thank you, I knew you would be the ones to turn to. I don't know what happened, or how she came by it, just that it is hitting her hard. Is there any way you could speak with the others this night? I'm worried she doesn't have the days to wait."
It is roughly early afternoon.
Pravlox gets up, and grabs his cloak. "Come with me. Neva is the one you want to talk to on this, and I will take you to her now, if you wish, as hearing a story first hand is much better." With that, he leads his guest to Neva's quarters. "Milady, I have a friend who has great need of our assistance. If you could discuss it with him while I gather the others, I'm sure he would be most appreciative." With that, he bows to the man, and heads off to find the others.
Grau tells his story again for Neva's sake, comforted by the woman's apt attention, and her motherly bearing. He seems much more relieved to see that the others are being gathered, and his tone is less pleading, and much more thankful.
"There, there, sweetheart. You've done the right thing in looking for help. It shows how much you love her. Now, let's go and check on the poor dear."
Neva relied on her long experience to hide her concern. Severe disease often claimed the young and poor, and this case might be beyond her abilities. But she'd go and look nonetheless.
Red pocks AND vomiting? Hmmmm....I don't recall seeing that.
Heal Check to identify the disease by described symptoms: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
I assumed a 14 failed, thus the IC comments.
Correct, Neva is unfamiliar with the symptoms.
Grau explains, during the trip, that his sister-in-law lives up in Trail's End. A small district just outside the city itself, made up primarily of Varisians, with a few Shoanti and socially disaffected Chelaxians. The place is poor and reputedly dangerous, but as you arrive you realize that the neighborhood feels more like a small town than any district within the city proper.
The criminal element is obvious and impossible to ignore in the faces of dozens of toughs and thugs who loiter on the streets here. Knowing most city folks' distaste for Varisia's natives, the residents of Trail's End return such prejudices, which creates a community that thrives off Korvosan coin but reviles the city all the same.
As you walk Grau talks about his family, either out of nerves or a sense of filling the silence. "My brother, Bayan Soldado, was murdered a long time ago by highwaymen. Tayce, his widow, is Varisian and does her best to raise the kids right. Don't worry about the locals, they know and respect her, and I'm afforded a little leeway because of it. I stop by at least once a week to check up on them."
He pauses in reflection a bit, continuing on before too long "They are good kids, and all of them work to help bring in a few coins. The boys, Charlo and Rello, are apprenticed as wheelwrights to a friend of the family. Brienna works as a maid. Tayce is able to bring in only so much with her work as a washerwoman for the community and several families in North Point."
He finishes as they near the house, a squat, two-story wooden building in desperate need of repair and gardening. The building feels like the home of a family too busy living to bother with tedious chores. Inside, however, the house is actually remarkebly clean and well-kept. It is filled with worn, well-used furniture, and decorated with the crafts and scribblings of children. The couch in the front room has folded blankets and stacked pillows about it, looking as if at least one person sleeps there on a regular basis.
The boys, Charlo and Rello, are in the front room when their uncle enters with you in tow. They pause what they are doing to see what's going on, but return to playing quietly. In the kitchen stands a man roughly in his late twenties, he has groomed brown hair, and a look of concern on his face. He wears the vestments of an acolyte of the Bank of Abadar. He is fussing with a pot boiling over the stove, and with a bag of herbs, as the strong aroma of cinnamon and anise is carried on the steam.
A spasm of ragged coughing fills the house from above. Upon seeing the priest in the kitchen, Grau scowls, obviously displeased, and goes upstairs. From where you stand you can just make out a sternly whispered conversation.
An older woman, most likely Tayce replies, "I had to do something, she's getting worse so quickly. What would you have me do?"
"I told you I was going to get help, I would handle it. Now the bill for his worthless healing is just racking up as we speak." He argues
Her voice breaks with a parent's concern "I can't wait around, hoping you'll figure something out. We are running out of time."
"Hmph. You took him to Neva, right? Not sure what good I can be for some sick kid, but I got nothing else to do." He heads over to Neva's, pokes his head in, "I'll be outside," and waits for the guard to finish talking to Neva.
Sure that he has nothing to offer, Rutter pays little attention during their trip to Trail's End, just tagging along. It's place among the outskirts of town (presumably the inland side?) assures that it's not an area Rutter's experienced, but all poor neighborhoods look familiar to someone who's grown up in one.
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
Local (Trail's End) 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
Local (Thugs) 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Perception 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
Well that sucked. :P
Copper leaves his crossbow behind, hoping it won't be missed while on a supposed mission of mercy. He goes into the house with neva, though he keeps to the back. After all, it wasn't his aid that seems to be actually needed here.
If left alone in the room, Copper will wander about, looking at things, fixing what he may with a mending spell, and trying to detect any magical auras that might be within that main room.
Can't make the knowledge DCs, so,
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
Neva had heard many such whispered arguments in her years. The daily concerns of money, of family duty, collided with a mind-clawing fear for a child's safety. The result was rarely rational discourse.
Her heart ached for the family. For the mother who had born and raised this child, and now felt the possibility of an unspeakable loss stalking her home, like an unseen predator.
Neva approached the priest of Abadar in the kitchen. Is he even old enough to be a priest? she asked herself.
Noting the look of concern on the young man's face, she greeted him formally, as a Priestess of Pharasma looking to do business with the church of Abadar. "Brother of the City, well met. Fate is shaped by the Judge."
Taking a glance into his pot, she continued. "Tell me, please, what is wrong with the child?"
Knowledge (local) (Trail's End) 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Knoweledge (local) (Thugs) 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
Perception 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
As he stops to think about the location on their way there, Pravlox gives a slight shudder. "Oh, that place. It's good your sister is respected. They really don't like outsiders. In some ways, they are some of the least crowded streets of the slums; of course, that did me little good. There are many that view any Non-Varisians, including halflings, as outsiders and prime targets for their thuggery. The Bashwater Boys come by their name honestly; damn Sczarni thugs."
Once they get there, he has little to add, though when the adults are distracted, he'll quietly slip each of the children a few silver each, trying to hold back the flood of unpleasant memories of his own childhood that made this place feel like paradise.
Felgar stays by the side of Neva, as always.
If'n the child can be helped, then mi'lady be the best chance.
he looks everone up and down, and he says to the man with Abadar's badge.
You be lookin' like a priest, no? Did ya have eny luck with the child?
Sorry, it was a busy school week.
Despite the outward condition of the home, Copper finds there is very little in the way of disrepair for him to bother with a mending.
The priest of Abadar turns to respond as Neva addresses him, "Well met yourself, Pharasman. I fear she suffers more than can be summarized with a singular name. She has symptoms of various natures, but none that spell out any known affliction. There is no doubt she is ill, but if I cannot discover what it is she is afflicted with, I fear she may be the carrier of a new disease." He looks downtrodden, and gazes into his boiling pot, "If only I had been called for earlier, I might have been able to help, but I'm afraid that my duties at the Golden One's Vault required me to entreat Him for similier miracles already this day."
He leans a little closer to her and whispers, "Even if I could, though, the tenets of my church force me to request a donation for Abadar's power - one that I suspect these simple folk could scarcely afford."
When Pravlox gives the boys the silver, they thank him for his generosity, but instead of pocketing the money, they run upstairs and are back shortly after. They are followed back down by the mother, Tayce and Grau Soldado. She is around forty, her features wan and her appearance disheveled, but still possesses a simple beauty. It's obvious that she hasn't slept in over a day. This does not affect her hospitality, "Welcome, please do come in and make yourselves comfortable. I apologize for not greeting you at the door." She looks to her boys, who then point at Pravlox "Thank you for your kindness, but they have not worked for this, and we are not beggars." Grau just shrugs at the halfling with a 'what can you do?' look on his face. Turning back to the others, she states, "My brother-in-law says that you may be able to help me?"
"Then consider it a challenge to them to earn it in the future by being good and generous men. A down payment on the future. I myself know well the pains of beggary, and would not foist that label on any self respecting individual, but there is a difference between begging and accepting a genuine gift from one who has been blessed with the ability to transcend that life in hopes that he may help others do so as well."
Nodding in acceptance, a move obviously made out of an exhausted desire to prevent a disagreement, she waves the boys forward to accept their gifts. "Thank you, sir." The boys each reply, before they rush upstairs, and quickly return. The coins most likely finding their way to where the children keep their valuables.
Neva wore a tight, sad smile as the brief drama of charity and pride played itself out. She gave Pravlox a glance that she hoped said "thank you" and turned back to the priest of Abadar.
"We appreciate the limits faced by those who serve the limitless. Such is our fate. However, you say that similar miracles were required earlier today? Which of those might help, do you think, and perhaps I can be of service?"
Nodding to his answer, Neva soon turned to ask the widow Tayce for permission to see the child.
The Abadarian sighs and suggests, "If you are able to cleanse the body of disease, that would be the obvious means. Otherwise, anything that could stave off the ravages the affliction has caused, something to bring her close enough to healthier to allow her to fight it longer." He shrugs and goes back to stirring his concoction, "Whatever you can do would be helpful."
As Tayce recognizes the holy symbol and is heartened by the Abdarian, Ishani Dhatri is how he introduced himself, speaking with her as an equal, she invites Neva to follow her upstairs.
The creaky steps open up into the bedroom loft above the main room of the Soldado home. Brienna, a young girl with auburn hair, lies in one of the beds. Her slight frame is dwarfed by the bed's size and the pile of pillows, afghans, and quilts surounding her. Splotches of an angry red rash cover her face and arms, appearing in irregular shapes and sizes. Suddenly, her restlessness is interrupted by a violent fit of hacking coughs that jerk her entire frame, lifting her well off her pillows. The spasm passes after a moment, dropping her back to the bed, but seemingly having done little to ease her breathing.
Neva crossed calmly over to the poor girl, a smile on her face.
"Hi darling, I'm here because your mother says you want to get well and see your friends again. Is that right?"
Then come the Heal checks:
First, I'd like to know if I can identify the disease now that I can see it up close. Heal Check 1: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11
Next, I'd like to know what damage she's taken to date. Heal Check 2: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30
If she's taken ability damage to CON, I'll likely use one of my scrolls of lesser restoration.
Finally, I'll spend the 10 minutes required to treat disease Heal Check 3: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17 If I beat it's DC, then she gets a +4 bonus on her next save.
This is a lot to process, so I'll wait on Aardvark to post an move things along at an appropriate speed.
Love my cleric skills! Woot!
Even having a look at the child does not assist Neva in determining which disease she suffers from. She is able to determine just how bad it has affected the girl, almost being able to tell how much it has taken out of her, and how much time she has left. The symptoms are not so much, however, that Neva doesn't know how to relieve some of them. She is able to give the mother some methods that should help with the pain, and to ease the child's cough, unless it continues to grow any worse.
With your nat 20 on the second check, your total is 40.
Due to that amazing total you know that she has 4 Con damage, and 5 Chr (she has 5 Con and 7 Cha remaining)
I'll let you roll for the scroll.
Neva pulled one of her hand-written prayers from her pack and went over it in her mind. With a few final words of supplication to Pharasma, she released the latent magics.
heal 1d4 points of Con damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4
That'll bring the girl's Fort save up a bit, too. Net +6 on her next save. I wish I knew what the darn disease was, though!
I could heal CHA damage with long-term care, but I don't want to hold up things too much.
Pleased with the results of the magic, Neva turned to the widow. "Do as I've instructed, and please, keep me informed of her progress. I've not seen this disease before and would learn more about it if I could. You are being very strong for her, and she needs that now."
Downstairs, talking to the priest, "So, if you don't know what the disease is, and if Neva can't figure out, who should we go to to get this figured out? Or are you completely clueless on that as well?" Pravlox clearly isn't particularly impressed with the young man's showing thus far.
Sorry for the delay, it was a hectic week.
Neva's ministrations, in conjunction with the spell, help the girl quite considerably. Although the rash still marrs her features, the cough eases, and the girl actually comes out of here fevered state. She looks up at Neva through clouded eyes, and looks confused at the stranger. She quickly offers a weak smile, and looks to her mother, asking weakly "Is lunch ready yet? I'm a little hungry."
Tayce is overjoyed to see Brienna awake and hungry. She hugs Neva, and responds, her eyes wet with tears "Yes, my dear, I'll have something for you very soon." She turns to Neva, "Please, you must stay for a meal. I will cook up a great meal for all of you. I don't know how else to thank you enough."
She kisses her daughter on the forehead, fluffs her pillow, and then leads Neva back downstairs.
Ishani turns to Pravlox, disappointment evident on his features as he stirs his pot, "New diseases don't spring up often, and I'm concerned that this is what we are dealing with here. I have made it my life's purpose to help others fight sickness ever since my mother and I escaped the outbreak of scarlet leprosy in Vudra that took my father. I would like to be able to offer services where I may, but the tenets of my god are clear and important to building a strong community. If nothing else, I can try to at least offer some simple poultices."
Tayce returns with Neva, a smile evident on her features. She hugs each of them, "Thank you all for coming to my aid, I told your priestess here that you all must stay for a hearty meal." She looks at Pravlox like she is daring him to deny her this act of appreciation.
Ishani's face brightens as well. "I'm glad you were able to help." he says to Neva. "Some of my more charitable work sometimes requires the aid of those outside my church's rigid hierarchies. Would you be amenable to me contacting you in the future? Also, if you need any of Abadar's services I can be found at the Grand Vault of Abadar. Sadly, I must leave for now to attend other duties." He walks over and whispers to Tayce about coming to check in tomorrow and see how Brienna is doing.
Pravlox watches quietly, "Did you actually figure out what the cause was or simply fix the symptoms? Either way, if this is, as the priest suggested, a new disease, we may need to track down it's source lest it become a plague. Is your daughter the only one who seems to be suffering from this, or there others in the neighborhood with the same symptoms?"
Rutter's ears perk up when Pravlox asks if others have had symptoms. It reminded him of a improbable theory he'd had about the ghost ship that had sailed into Korvosa just a few days ago. I gotta pull Prav aside later, he tells himself as he listens for an answer.
Responding to Pravlox, Neva gave a small shake of the head to indicate that she didn't identify the cause. She was unwilling to say any more in front of Tayce, wanting the widow to enjoy a few more minutes of happiness.
Tayce tries to keep the talk of the disease and its mystery to a minimum, but she is still willing to help where she can. "We haven't seen nor heard much of other folk getting sick, not this bad. Illness in Trail's End isn't exactly unheard of here." She busies herself with cooking, telling the boys to set the table for all their company.
The meal she makes is really quite good, and even with the minimal stores and ingredients, is both delicious and hearty. She disappears only once during the event to bring food up to, and feed, Brienna. She returns shortly after to clean up, wishing you all a good night.
She isn't rushing or forcing you out, and during dnner you can ask her any more questions you have. Otherwise, you can call it a night. Also, where is Zellara's deck, does someone carry it?
Pravlox freely allows the conversation to shift to other topics when it becomes clear that there isn't an immediate need to pursue it. While it's clear that he isn't used to a family meal like this, he seems more curious than uncomfortable about it as he listens to the conversation going on around him. When it's over, he looks to his companions to see if they have anything further to add.
I'm reading over the harrow rules. I didn't do the one from the first module, so this one is new. Sadly, a while ago I had wrestled with the decision of whether to buy a Harrow deck or not, now it's too late and I wish I had. I can't describe any of the cards, because I don't know what they look like.
As you guys bid your farewells for the evening, and return to your shared domicile, the small box that contains Zellara's deck of cards begins to rattle. Opening the box to investigate, the cards spray out of the box and swirl around the room. They spin like a small tornado of colored placards, before easing slowly down into a single pile in the center of the table. You each notice that not all of them have collected on the table's top. Each of you seem to have had one land somewhere on your person.
From the crook of his crossed arms, Copper pulls out the card labeled 'The Mountain Man'. Sticking out of Felgar's beard is 'The Desert'. Lodged in her hair bun, the card 'The Trumpet' sits. From out of the back of his collar, Pravlox removes the card of 'The Brass Dwarf'. In the band of Rutter's hat, the card 'The Sickness' can be seen. As you are all looking at the cards you hold, they zip from your hands to settle on the deck, which then begins to shuffle itself. As the cards work themselves together, an image begins to form working the cards. It is Zellara, as you remember her from that first fateful night that brought most of you together.
Felgar 1d9 ⇒ 3 The Desert
Neva 1d9 ⇒ 3 already taken
Pravlox 1d9 ⇒ 4 The Brass Dwarf
Rutter 1d9 ⇒ 8 The Sickness
Neva re-roll 1d9 ⇒ 1 The Trumpet
Going to try and finish this later, it's a long one, feel free to RP in the interim if you wish.
"Heh. That don't look like a good omen," Rutter says, as he regards his card before it whizzes out of his hand.
After everything's settled down a bit, Rutter asks Pravlox, "Is your water elemental sure there weren't any bodies on that boat? It's just that I was thinking later, since boats don't sail themselves, what happened to the crew? And one thing I thought of, was maybe they all got sick while out at sea. Then this kid comes down with some mysterious illness here? I thought that was an effed up coincidence."
Neva poke her hair back into place nervously as she watched the appearance of Zellara's ghost. A cold, burning sensation started deep in her belly. A good portion of her wanted to run, screaming.
Lady, please let us find a way to put this spirit to rest. I miss my friend, but this gives me the shivers.
Neva listened to Rutter and began to ponder. Thinking out loud she said, "I don't know how a dead crew of a sunken ship might have infected that little girl, but if lots of folks start catching this..."
She didn't finish the thought.
Pravlox watches the slow appearance of the ghost with mild interest, but seems more annoyed at the cards being blown about, "What is this strange magic, and which one of you is trying to use magic you clearly can't control?"[b] In response to the comments about the ship, [b]"That thought had occurred to me, Rutter, but I don't know where we would even begin to look for any links."
1d54 ⇒ 42 (The Tyrant)|1d54 ⇒ 48 (The Marriage)|1d54 ⇒ 54 (The Twin)
1d54 ⇒ 33 (The Sickness)|1d54 ⇒ 25 (The Cyclone)|1d54 ⇒ 3 (The Trumpet)
Wall of text follows.
The image of Zellara solidifies enough to begin manipulating the deck, shuffling the cards together as she looks over each of you. She has a look of sadness at Neva’s concern, before quickly giving the other woman a clicking tut of her tongue. The same tut she used to give the midwife when Zellara would reprimand her for being foolish. She gives both of the newcomers, Pravlox and Felgar, a long hard look, but seems satisfied with what she sees. She directs you all to sit, and begins to place the cards face down on the table. She lays out three rows of three cards, explaining as she would have to her previous customers “There are ways of this world, in which all being walks, the journey of the soul. Those with righteousness, walk the path of good, from birth to death.” She lays the top three cards. “Other souls worry themselves with their own lives, surviving, meddling neither in the affairs of the holy nor the profane.” She lays out the second row just below the first. “Then there are the souls of darkness, whose paths lie in dominating those they consider lesser, either by force of will or weapon.” She lays down the third row across the bottom. She glances across the assembled group, with a look like she is gauging everyone’s understanding of what she just explained. She then begins to flip over the cards, and start her reading.
The first card she turns over is the upper right corner; the image is that of a grand playhouse, in the corner of the card is the image of a crown “The Theater. Here we see the good of what has come. We are shown that the prophecies of before have come to pass, the cards held true and shed light on the adversity you have overcome.” She eyes it approvingly, a bit of smugness on her face. Instead of turning over the second card in the row, she turns over the first card of the second row. The one right beneath the first card she flipped. The picture on the card is that of a man whipping slaves, reminiscent of Lamm standing over his lambs. This card also has a crown in the corner. “The Tyrant. The pain inflicted by someone who bore the role of father has made a mark on you, gave you reason to stand up on your own.” She gazes at Pravlox comfortingly as she speaks, before eyeing the others who were at her first reading when she informed them of Gaedren’s hideout. She moves down to the bottom card in the first column. The card is turned over to present the image of a beggar wrapped in bandages, his skin red and covered in pustules. This one has a shield in the corner instead of the crown on the other two. Rutter recognizes this as the card that had landed on him. “The Sickness. Your trials have tested the limits of your bodies, pushing them to fight not only your enemies, but the foul remnants of their work as well. This is behind you, as you have faced and overcome these obstacles.”
She waits a little for it to be accepted as truth by the group, before shifting back up to the top row, to flip the second card. The picture is one of a mighty stronghold, standing firm on solid ground, a picture of a smith’s hammer sitting on the card’s corner. Her look grows proud, a slight smile on her face, “The Keep. This is most important at this point. This card represents your perseverance, your ability to stand tall in the face of adversity. You are tested by hardship, and refusing to quit fuels your fire, which will see you through troubled times. Stand firm, and stay true to yourself.” Turning the second card in the column, the one in the exact middle of the spread, reveals a man and woman at the altar, dressed as bride and groom, another crown visible in the corner ”The Marriage. What you have to work with are all the different people around you, and the ideas they bring with them. Not everyone will help you that tries, but neither will those that try to hinder you always succeed. You can often find aid in the unlikeliest of places.” She moves to the bottom card of the middle column, and turns it over. The image is of an angry swirling vortex of wind, tearing into houses and rending them asunder, the smith’s hammer resting in the corner. “The Cyclone. There are plots afoot, plans to bring chaos and misfortune to many. Devious intentions are in play, and they need to be stopped.” She once again pauses for her telling to sink in before moving on to the last column of cards.
She turns over the top card and it bears the bleak landscape of the burning desert. A flat expanse stretches out beneath a burning sun, as the smallest sign of a caravan can be seen crossing it. In the upper right is a shield. This is the card that had been sticking from Felgar’s beard. “The Desert. This is a card of journeys, passing through difficult environments, successfully. You will find yourself in unforgiving landscapes, full of danger and hardships, but you emerge from the other side triumphant, and stronger for having made the journey.” She gives the group and approving nod, moving to flip over the next card. The image is of twins. Two men stand side by side, each one identical to the other, the crown in the corner becoming a familiar sight. “The Twin. You will see that just as there are two sides to a story, many of the people you interact with will have two faces they wear. Not just good and evil, as it can be of dual purpose, or dual personality, they could just present two ways to provide aid, or two ways to hinder. Do not take everything at face value.” The culmination comes down to the last card, and before she flips it she explains, ”Underneath is that which will be your greatest adversity. This will challenge you, and may even bring you pain or failure.” She then flips over the card, which at first seems innocent enough. It is Neva’s card, its face bearing the image of an angelic being blowing forcefully through a golden horn. For some reason, though, certain features become more visible. The eyes of the being look tight with malice, and the horn can be seen as dented and tarnished, crushed in the angry grip of the angel. The shield rests in the corner. “Oh my! The Trumpet. In this position it does not bode well. Normally it stands for the righteous display of power, proving to the enemy the difficulty they must overcome. Here, though, it is the corruption of power. It shows that you must overcome the drive of evil men to grasp violently for power, by any means, just to have that power. They do not care what they must do to achieve it. Act with caution, for those that stand against you will do whatever they have to in order to get what they want.” With the last one, she leaves the cards on display for a little bit before she gathers them up and shuffles them into a clean pile. As her hands work, the image of her begins to fade away, until all that remains is the deck of cards resting neatly in the middle of the table.
Each of you gets 4 Harrow points. How you use them is explained in the campaign tab. On top of that, each card you had before the reading gives you a special benefit at a certain point in the adventure. I will let you know what you get when the event arises.
Pravlox watches the scene quietly, and when it is over, "So, what does all of that actually mean? Where do we go next? It seems to me the only real clue we have is is Blackjack fellow, but how do we even start to look for the guy?"
As the image fades the voice can be heard as it fades, answering Pravlox's question, "The cards do not control fate, nor give direction. They only tell what was, what is, and what will come to pass. They illuminate the darkness of that which is beyond your sight."
With that, she's gone.
Forgot to mention, the Harrow points you had from last module are gone. All you have are the ones you just received. Sorry about any lack of direction, but like I said this one is a little more PC driven.
Neva watched Zellara fade away with sadness, tinged with relief.
She turned to the halfling summoner and agreed. "I would like to know more about that painter Blackjack saved, and if she wasn't guilty, who was. But you are right. I'm not sure how to find a notoriously secret individual"
"Of course, your and Rutter's comments about the ship being the source of the girl's disease is also troubling. I feel silly not having questioned the girl on her recent activity. Perhaps that would give a clue where she contracted the disease. Perhaps she swam in the river? Or dealt with a fisherman who had?"
Her mind turned over options, and she began to pace across the room.
Neva, don't forget to roll a spellcraft. And do we have another chance to identify that dagger since we leveled?
"Well, you can ask her next time you check on her. You did need to check on her again, right?"
"As for Blackjack, if he was smart, he'd be finding some way to get that painter out of town. Sorry, Copper." Rutter tries to keep a straight face, but a grin breaks through as he teases the spellcaster.
"I don't care what we do. I'm itching for another job." Even as he says it, he looks off in deep thought, "I guess I'm more curious if there's any connection between the disease and the ship. Man, ships don't sail themselves, and diseases gotta come from somewhere."
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
Neva walked over to the deck of cards and ran her fingers along its stacked edges. She tapped it gently, some of her discomfort with Zellar's "ghost" fading away like the spirit itself.
The dagger? The one from the butcher shop that Neva carries? You can actually try to re-Identify items once/day.
The evening, deep in darkness by the time Zellara's reading ends, wears on. The day's events, and the conversation, wears on the group. Maybe, it would just be better to call it a night, sleep on it and refresh your minds and bodies.
Not pushing it, just making clear that it's close to evening, and you probably wouldn't want to act on anything this night (unless you do want to use the cover of darkness for something).
Sorry...no notification that the thread was progressing. In the last module we were given ways in which to spend our Harrow Points that differ from what you have indicated in the Campaign Tab. Are those no longer available? Also, should we still keep track of our Chosen Card from the first module?
Felgar scratches his beard, and he begins to consider the options.
Maybe a return to the barracks'll give us a task? Otherwise, mayhap Rutter can scare up somethin' about Blackjack around these parts?
Spellcraft to identify dagger from butcher's shop: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Neva stretched her back a bit in exhaustion. "You're right, Rutter. I have to go back tomorrow anyway, so let's get some rest. After we ask a few questions of the girl, we can move on to either searching out Blackjack or finding more work. At the very least we can show up a Kroft's and ask for a job."
With that, Neva began to give each of the others their goodnight hugs.
Pravlox simply nods. "Perhaps a good night's sleep will give us more insight. Shall we plan on meeting here in the morning? I can summon Rex and we can further discuss our next course of action."
"See y'all tomorrow." Rutter considers visiting the brothel, but if he has been exposed to some kind of plague, he wouldn't want to spread it to the ladies there. He heads back to Zellara's shack and goes to bed early.