Curse of the Crimson Throne

Game Master Euan


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Elf:
HP:113/113 AC: 21 (f17/t16)): K(Arc) +17, K(His) +7, K(Pl) +20, K(Rel) +20, Per +24, Sense +12, Spllcft +24/26

Briar points out the fallen soldier.

Is he elven? Should Briar care?

"Take care now! We're not sure what did that."

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18 Perception


Male Human (Init +7 | Per +16 | Fort +16 Ref +15 Will +11* +1 enchant, +4 language & sonic | AC 32 (f25/t19) | CMD36*)

Fondo pats Barael on the shoulder as he returns down the stairs from his mother's. He's been too busy keeping a watch for marks and bedmates to have eavesdropped. He does, however, notice Barael's stoop. Clapping a hand on the lad's shoulder, he says, "Family'll suck your very soul out of your nethers if you let em, friend. Best to set your sights on the horizon and keep on walking." His voice is louder than usual — mead loud.

. . . . . .

Seeing the soldier fall, Fondo draws his rapier and positions his buckler. He walks toward the fallen soldier, ready for trouble.

Perception 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22


half-elf
today's stuff, various:
Saves: ------------- HP: 96 Fort:12 Ref:15 Will:10 AC: 24 T:24 FL:14 Mutagen: Dex/Wis, lasts 20 minutes

Dandilion's travels:

Stepping quickly away from the The Traveling Man, Dandilion makes her way home through old Korvosa. Her route is circuitous, going first to check on Old Langley, and then into Old Dock proper.

Shifting her hat, she checks in at Gram's, to see what, if anything, she's heard about trouble this way, then around the corner down the street and into an alley. Dandi scrambles up the wall via carefully chiseled free brick spaces, and in through the window on the third floor of the burnt out building that she's called home since leaving the temple after her "accident".

Only then does she relax for a moment, bring Wraith out of her cage, and spend some few moments with her one true companion, letting the spider skitter and climb over her body as she will, her eyes closed as she tries to come to terms with the night's events.

She shivers a little at the thin line of thread the spider leaves in her wake, gets lost in its iridescence for a long moment, even in the dim light of her solitary space. Blues, yellows, greens catch and captivate, the last one reminding her again of the eyes of the one that saved her, so like the elf from last night.

"Now I'm just being silly, ain't I, Wraith? That one ain't the type to pull us out of the muck, is he? He wasn't all that interested in saving little Laura, just finding his brother and his stupid ol' magic, he was."

The spider doesn't answer, not this time, but just asking the questions is enough to pull her free of her revery, free of the pretty colors of the web. With a sigh she slowly gathers it up, and puts the tiny spider back in her cage, then heads up the stairs, out hole in the floor of what's left of a closet, falls through to the second, and goes out the back, jumping down the last story to a pile of garbage below.

Returning to The Traveling Man too late to join the others, she cuts across town to join them at the Cathedral of Pharasma. She brushes at her clothing, carefully gathering any wayward webs she may have missed. That wouldn't do, would it? to have those pretty silky things shining in the day light?

"It's alright, Wraith, I think I got them all."

Better late than never, Dandilion rejoins the others, if she sees the guard get hit, then perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25


Briar, Fondo, and Dandilion see nothing untoward in the bright morning light. The guardsman seems to stir slightly.


Elf:
HP:113/113 AC: 21 (f17/t16)): K(Arc) +17, K(His) +7, K(Pl) +20, K(Rel) +20, Per +24, Sense +12, Spllcft +24/26

Briar follows Fondo, only now aware of the disappearance of Dandi, the waif.

Wait! Where did she go? No time to worry about her now.

Briar covers Fondo and stands in the middle of the street as he does, hoping for a clear line of fire to any attackers.

"I got you covered, Fondo."


half-elf
today's stuff, various:
Saves: ------------- HP: 96 Fort:12 Ref:15 Will:10 AC: 24 T:24 FL:14 Mutagen: Dex/Wis, lasts 20 minutes

Do I at least see the others with that roll?


You're a few paces back, but not far from the group. Charlie, I'm sure, lingered over his food and (especially) mead.


Male Human (Per +18 | Fort +12 Ref +16 Will +12 | AC 24 (f 19/t 17)| CMD 30/f 25)

"Thanks, mate. I fix to do just that." Barael admits to Fondo, a hint of smirk arising. Why can't she take the bottled spirits as well as Fondo can? Well, at least he only raises his volume, not his hand.

***

Barael watches as Fondo and Briar step closer to the fallen Guard. It's a bad sign, that. Enough misfortune to go around today. He keeps up, and watches the gate, looking for a second guard. "HEY!!! GUARDSMAN, ARE YOU ALRIGHT??"

Perception 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18


The party stands well back and yells to the guard to see if he's OK. He attempts to rise, and manages to do so without help, though with some difficulty. He waves vaguely in your direction and wavers for a moment.

You see no other guard in sight.


Elf:
HP:113/113 AC: 21 (f17/t16)): K(Arc) +17, K(His) +7, K(Pl) +20, K(Rel) +20, Per +24, Sense +12, Spllcft +24/26

Still distrusting, Briar switches his nicked arrow to a less sharp, more blunt version.

Maybe we won't need to kill it.


I see that Fondo and Barael were closing in a bit

As you get closer, you see the guard is wavering in the non-existent wind.

"The King is dead.", he sobs. "Long live the King!" He grabs a bottle off the ground where it recently fell, and chugs the remaining swallow.

He then collapses to a sitting position and mumbles something else you can't quite hear.

Barael recognizes the man as one of the watch sergeants in the midland district. A normally tall green eyed stalwart individual and a man who commanded respect.


Male Human (Per +18 | Fort +12 Ref +16 Will +12 | AC 24 (f 19/t 17)| CMD 30/f 25)

"Fondo, Briar, he's a Sergeant of the Watch, from the Midlands. This isn't him, it's a shadow of a man, laid low by the bottle." Barael advances more quickly, and responds to any gesture for support or bracing from the Sergeant.

"Sergeant, it's troubled times. Sad times. Is someone coming to relieve you of your post? Anything we can do? It's been a long night."


Male Human (Init +7 | Per +16 | Fort +16 Ref +15 Will +11* +1 enchant, +4 language & sonic | AC 32 (f25/t19) | CMD36*)

"Fret not, my lad. The king's dead, but the kingdom remains. Well, queendom now, I suppose. We all have need of each other now. My fellows and I here, we aim to help the people weather these changes with good fortune. Perhaps you'd like to see your fortune while you're at it?" Fondo offers his hand, then draws out the Harrow.

Diplomacy 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26 plus the obligatory hope that someone might be inclined towards imtimate times with our handsome Fondo.


"I relieved myself of my post." and from the smell of things he relieved himself on himself as well.

"Kings die, but why must everyone riot? Is there no decency in the world today? Take the har- harrow. What is it really. Is it not just the extension of man himself?"

He begins to blather on about the state of the common man, and how his position in the universe is at the bottom most rung... "...and so why NOT rise up?! I ask you. Perhaps chaos is what this city needs!"

He tries to take another drink and finds his bottle empty.

"Come, come my friends. Let us toast the crown at the Aran's Crown. He he he, that's funny. Yes, yes let us go and drink to the common man!"


half-elf
today's stuff, various:
Saves: ------------- HP: 96 Fort:12 Ref:15 Will:10 AC: 24 T:24 FL:14 Mutagen: Dex/Wis, lasts 20 minutes

Dandi watches the spectacle from a distance, eying the antics of the Korvosan Guardsmen.

and he's got a right point there, Wraith. Why not rise up? Because the black jacked boot of the guard will knock you in the head, that's why not...

She and Wraith decide to keep their distance for now.


Male Human (Init +7 | Per +16 | Fort +16 Ref +15 Will +11* +1 enchant, +4 language & sonic | AC 32 (f25/t19) | CMD36*)

"I should be glad to join you for a toast, friend — after some unpleasant business. Join us anon?"

Fondo nimbly unwraps the cards and draws one while the man blathers on.

The Draw:
1d6 + 1d9 + 1d2 ⇒ (2) + (9) + (2) = 13 Profession (Fortune Teller) 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

Seeing the Demon's Lantern inverted, Fondo's brow furrows momentarily, then raises happily. "Ah, you see — the cards show that you are to find a guide through these troubled times. I dare not judge myself worthy, but if you'll allow, we will happily accompany you to brighter fortunes. Perhaps together we can turn the chaos into fortune for the many." And misfortune for tyrants.


Elf:
HP:113/113 AC: 21 (f17/t16)): K(Arc) +17, K(His) +7, K(Pl) +20, K(Rel) +20, Per +24, Sense +12, Spllcft +24/26

Briar leans in closer to Nikolay and asks a whispered question.

Not for none of you yahoos, except Nik:

"You're lived in this city, right?  Is this guard here a traitor or a hero?  Isn't advocating rebellion a bit of an issue?"


Male Human (Per +18 | Fort +12 Ref +16 Will +12 | AC 24 (f 19/t 17)| CMD 30/f 25)

"From where I stand, there are those, hold you in high respect. Those who look up to you, from an even lower rung than you." Barael wrings his hands uncomfortably. He tries to keep a steady voice, but he's visibly angry.

"The rioters, they're opportunistic. Taking advantage of a sudden misfortune. Give your sorrow a night's rest, maybe two. I'm thinking once you've been back to the post, you'll find others looking to you to steady the rocking boat."

He looks past the Sergeant, hoping to eyeball a public fountain, any water supply to douse the man's emissions. He also looks to see if there is a guardhouse nearby that could shield this Sergeant gone rogue from passers-by. At least Mum is unarmed and can be led easily enough. I don't know what strings to pluck on this sod.


Barael, you're four or five blocks from the Citadel Volshyenek - the headquarters of the guard.


Male Human (Init +7 | Per +16 | Fort +16 Ref +15 Will +11* +1 enchant, +4 language & sonic | AC 32 (f25/t19) | CMD36*)

"Then again, maybe a couple of suns will tell a new tale. Whom may your guard better serve in this new epoch, what were an afterthought afore? I'll tell you honest, my brothers and sisters of the road could welcome these new dawns."

Realizing the mead might be loosening his lips a bit too much, Fondo shrugs and smiles. "But I'm just a humble reader of the cards, and that by happenstance. No doubt you gentles'll bring a better day to all the city's folk, come what may."

Bluff to use charm to distract from the possibly too revolutionary content of his speech. 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22


Male Human (PER +6 | FORT+15 REF+9 WILL+11 | AC 26 (F24, T14) CMD28)
Briar the Lesser wrote:
Briar leans in closer to Nikolay and asks a whispered question.

At Briar:
"His drink has revealed his thoughts, but I see no action on his part. We have much to do and more real threats then this drunk I suspect. His absence will soon be noted if it hasn't already and the situation will resolve itself."

Nikolay looks on at the drunken guard.

"Trying times will show the truth of a person. He is not worth our time."


Male Human (PER +6 | FORT+15 REF+9 WILL+11 | AC 26 (F24, T14) CMD28)
Briar the Lesser wrote:
Briar leans in closer to Nikolay and asks a whispered question.

At Briar:
"His drink has revealed his thoughts, but I see no action on his part. We have much to do and more real threats then this drunk I suspect. His absence will soon be noted if it hasn't already and the situation will resolve itself."

Nikolay looks on at the drunken guard.

"Trying times will show the truth of a person. He is not worth our time."


half-elf
today's stuff, various:
Saves: ------------- HP: 96 Fort:12 Ref:15 Will:10 AC: 24 T:24 FL:14 Mutagen: Dex/Wis, lasts 20 minutes

Dandilion scuttles closer. Though she doesn't think much of the guard, she understands the sorrow of a lost future. She eyes the man for a long moment, then, if he has still not found his feet, plunks down beside him. He smells bad, but she's smelled worse.

"Come! Tis time to jiggle your feet and head elsewhere, new found friend of a friend. If you would attend us in the cathedral, then join us, but if not, then pray move to the side and let the wagons by. "

"Surely Fondo would be heartbroken to lose your company with the clattering of a wheel, and Barael seems to find the worth of your existence in his memories, though it seems to have abandoned you with the advent of the current troubles. If you trust not yourself, then trust in people kind enough to stop for you, and not steal your purse, nor purloin your pride for the sake of a laugh. "

"Get up! Time is of the essence and this moment that you waste will never be again."

diplomacy to get the man on his feet and moving along: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15


Male Human (Init +7 | Per +16 | Fort +16 Ref +15 Will +11* +1 enchant, +4 language & sonic | AC 32 (f25/t19) | CMD36*)

Fondo grins at Dandilion as a man properly smiles upon a sibiling that fills him with pride. He then remembers the tricks of his grandmother. Putting away his buckler, he wiggles his fingers and chants in Varisian.

1d100 ⇒ 84

"Let's clean you up now." When he's done, the man's clear of excrement and foul odor. Indeed, he smells like patchouli and sandalwood (no doubt considered a horrible stench among the uptight Chels).

"There now. What's your name, anyway, brother?"


Male Human (Per +18 | Fort +12 Ref +16 Will +12 | AC 24 (f 19/t 17)| CMD 30/f 25)

Barael looks between Fondo and Dandilion as they coordinate affairs. His fist unclenches. Aroden, that's your work right there. I always asked you what it would have been like to have a brother or a sister, the relief it would bring to have someone to help with Mum in her spells. I was ready to... I don't know what I was ready to do. The Sergeant needs to find his way to his unit, but not in his condition.

Barael produces a dose of cologne, and tries to apply the cologne to the Sergeant using his scarf, feigning cleaning off dirt on his lapel. Maybe that will cloak the fumes on his breath.

Sleight of Hand 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

"Sergeant, I'd walk with you as far as the Citadel. As the city regains its senses, and the bar owners are more likely to produce their finer liqueurs, I'll raise a glass with you, but only then. We'll toast to remembered honor, and the steel buried deep in duty, that often goes unacknowledged."


Fondo Barondo wrote:
"There now. What's your name, anyway, brother?"

"My name is Grau." He considers, dimly through the haze of his drink, the various righteous speeches being bandied his way. "I am... the watch sergeant!", he yells.

Then he starts with a whisper and slowly grows louder, "Quiet, you're making my head spin! You are right of course, I must fight, and fighting win!"

He lurches to his feet only to topple over to one side. He gets his rapier half out of his sheath only to cut himself (not badly) on the blade.

Clearly he will need help getting to, well, wherever you take him. Barael seems keen on taking him to the Citadel, does the party go along for the few short blocks out of their way?


Male Human (Init +7 | Per +16 | Fort +16 Ref +15 Will +11* +1 enchant, +4 language & sonic | AC 32 (f25/t19) | CMD36*)

"Little brother," Fondo says to Barael, "Might be the good sergeant's commanders might look at Grau here and see a drunken shirker, not the fine citizen we know him to be. Let's help him catch his wits before he names himself deserter. Mayhap after Pharasma and the market...?"

Fondo smiles broadly, and eyes Grau for any loose change or loose ways he might be holding. He evidently loves to acquire new companions. Little orphan girls, drunken awol guardsmen, revenge-seeking vigilantes.

"So tell us, Sergeant Grau, what's cast such a shadow over your day? My friends and I, we know of sorrow. No tale you tell could bring our spirits lower."


Male Human (PER +6 | FORT+15 REF+9 WILL+11 | AC 26 (F24, T14) CMD28)

Nikolay doesn't assist, but doesn't object to the help offered to the drunken sergeant.


Male Human (Per +18 | Fort +12 Ref +16 Will +12 | AC 24 (f 19/t 17)| CMD 30/f 25)

"I'm not seeing a fine citizen, nor am I seeing Watch Sergeant." Barael's glower at Grau turns to a kind of remembered fatigue looking at Fondo.

"I see a ring master of one of those traveling circuses come to town, and letting the animals out of their cages. If a Red Robe wants to announce to the public that it's their town to do with as they please, he's a danger, and I'd have him behind his walls, not on the street caterwauling permissions he has no right to give."

If this part of town is currently dead/quiet, Barael is not as motivated to get him to the Citadel, and concedes Fondo's point.


You're at the very threshold of the gray district and as such it's very quiet here. Likely why Grau chose this spot for his misery...

He looks to Fondo and gets lost for a moment in one of his brightly colored scarves. "The city, the riots, how could society fall so far - so fast!? The things I saw last night..." He takes a deep breath.

"No, you're right, I MUST return to the guard. I have my duty - no matter what the city is doing. I so loved the King, Long live the King! and I love my city." He stands straight again, and wavers a bit, but seems to mostly hold his own.

"I'll be fine friends. I thank you for your, urp, council. Just give me a moment to steady myself, and I'm off."

He grips his robe with white knuckles and begins to teeter off in the direction of the Guard barracks. He weaves a bit to be sure, but it does look like he might make it.


half-elf
today's stuff, various:
Saves: ------------- HP: 96 Fort:12 Ref:15 Will:10 AC: 24 T:24 FL:14 Mutagen: Dex/Wis, lasts 20 minutes
DM_Euan wrote:
"....The things I saw last night..."

Dandilion gives a little shudder, last night was too ugly in their own cocoon of misery at Lamm's place. Could anything the guardsman saw be any worse? Her eyes stray to the hatbox, then to her friends.

"If you have yer feet beneath you, then we should be off. Just remember the kindness, stranger, and be kind to those ye meet. "

She gives a little mental shake when done, idly wondering where such words are coming from, for surely they aren't woven from her usual skein.


Elf:
HP:113/113 AC: 21 (f17/t16)): K(Arc) +17, K(His) +7, K(Pl) +20, K(Rel) +20, Per +24, Sense +12, Spllcft +24/26

Briar leans back in to whisper to Nikolay.

@Nikolay, not no one else:

"Tell me, Nikolay.  Are all the guards here this dishonorable?  At first sign of riot, they break out into drink and encourage further madness?  Are there true guards in this city?"

Briar pauses for a moment.

"Seems to me that someone I would admire would spend time and energy planning for riots and appropriate response so that the damage and injury are minimized.  I think anyone who spent time preserving the life of the citizens through preparation and forethought would be worthy of admiration.   That is noble and honorable and commendable.  For this one..." Briar gestures to the drunk.  "I do not feel the same.  Surely, you agree?"

:)

Briar watches the man walk away and wonders what is next.

"We drop off this head, yes?"


Male Human (Per +18 | Fort +12 Ref +16 Will +12 | AC 24 (f 19/t 17)| CMD 30/f 25)

"Go on to the cathedral, friends. I'll get her tucked into be... I mean, I'll shadow him to the Citadel, and come back, once he's been brought in." Barael sizes up the length of the task.

If Grau looks to make it fully the 4-5 blocks on his own steam, Barael hangs back a block and tries not to be obvious to Grau that he's hovering. If Grau falls several times, and looks incapable of the journey, Barael sprints to the Citadel, and asks for assistance in retrieving Grau.

Stealth to Shadow Grau 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

...
If no complications arise, Barael tries his best to catch up with the others on their walk to Pharasma.


Barael:
Grau, with a few falterings, does make it to the Citadel and stumbles inside where his fate awaits him. You turn and quickly rush to catch up tot he rest of the party. As you do so, you see a group of hooligans eyeing you alone in the streets as easy pickings. You pick up your pace, and make it to the gray district without being accosted. But it was a near thing. The streets are not safe for a person walking alone...

The gray district spreads out before you and drops down a little so you get a pretty good view of much of it. There appears to be some sort of internment going on in the Potter's Ward, possibly folks who died in the night.

The cathedral is to your right a little ways off. You do see a pair of priests walking toward it to your south. They're closer to you than the cathedral.


Male Human (Init +7 | Per +16 | Fort +16 Ref +15 Will +11* +1 enchant, +4 language & sonic | AC 32 (f25/t19) | CMD36*)

Fondo listens to his new companions Nikolay and Barael berating Grau and arches his eyebrow.

They condemn a man in his greatest hour of sorrow, who is out of his mind with grief. I loved not the king. Nay, he's done naught but ill to my folk. Yet even I would give this man a bit of solace. Hm. We'll see how long our feet follow the same path...

He shrugs and mutters, "Desna smiles upon all of her children when they are in sorrow. Who are we to judge?" His voice becomes stronger, and he smiles ruefully. "Ah, except we have judged, haven't we? A heavy dose of judgment last night, and now we know the measure of every man? Friends, let's finish with judging for today, and grieve what's lost." He puts his hand on Dandi's shoulder if she'll let him, and trudges on towards the cemetery,


half-elf
today's stuff, various:
Saves: ------------- HP: 96 Fort:12 Ref:15 Will:10 AC: 24 T:24 FL:14 Mutagen: Dex/Wis, lasts 20 minutes

Dandi can only nod in agreement to Fondo's sentiment. Who was she to have judged? Yet how much worse would this chaos be with Lamm left to feed in waters such as these?

At the touch of his hand, she weaves an arm around Fondo's waist for a quick squeeze of support. Letting go just as quickly, she flashes a wan smile before grimly turning her feet towards the cemetery, and their next gruesome task, "Yes, let's finish with this."


Male Human (Per +18 | Fort +12 Ref +16 Will +12 | AC 24 (f 19/t 17)| CMD 30/f 25)

"A soldier, off-shift, grieving over fallen comrades, that's a sad and respectful sight. A Guard, colors draped, on duty and drunk, why that's just sad. He wears the office. Shoulda put on his civvies before tanking up." Barael walks at intermittent speeds. "The town isn't safe. I felt the eyes, on my way back. Only thing got Grau across the Citadel's doorsteps were the black and crimson he wore."

Barael approaches the priests. "Please, pious ones. Our group needs your counseling. We were one of the many unfortunates last night, and require your burial services for a fallen one. Can you help?"


Elf:
HP:113/113 AC: 21 (f17/t16)): K(Arc) +17, K(His) +7, K(Pl) +20, K(Rel) +20, Per +24, Sense +12, Spllcft +24/26

Briar follows Barael to the priests, taking care to watch his back, blunt arrow still nicked.


"I can help you. My name's Fosie. Where's the body, and where would you like him buried?"

She seems quite efficient and interested in getting the job done quickly and peacefully.


Elf:
HP:113/113 AC: 21 (f17/t16)): K(Arc) +17, K(His) +7, K(Pl) +20, K(Rel) +20, Per +24, Sense +12, Spllcft +24/26

Briar retrieves the hatbox from his pack and hands it to Fosie.

"I guess you're now Fosie bearer."

Briar the wakkas wakkas back a few paces to retake his lookout position.

"I don't know where she should be buried. Uhm...Fondo, you're one of her kind, what would you think?"


Male Human (Per +18 | Fort +12 Ref +16 Will +12 | AC 24 (f 19/t 17)| CMD 30/f 25)

Barael's left eye twitches, and his face loses a little bit of its ruddiness. Fosie Bearer? What is he playing at? Barael bows his head, to mimic a gesture of respect as well as to rub his eyes.

When his head lifts, Barael looks expectantly at Fondo.


Male Human (Init +7 | Per +16 | Fort +16 Ref +15 Will +11* +1 enchant, +4 language & sonic | AC 32 (f25/t19) | CMD36*)

"Mother Fosie..." Fondo looks bashful, like a member of the flock who has for too long forgone penance. "We have only the head of... a great drabarni. Madame Zellara. Her life was taken by a common thug. We found her head in the villain's lair. We... I... Am not sure what the proper rites would be for such a powerful seer. Could you advise us?"

Diplomacy 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19


Male Half Elf (PER +8 | FORT+7 REF+5 WILL+13 | AC 23 (F23, T10) CMD10) Luckstone

Charlie finally catches up to the party breathless. "I've been just out of ear shot trying to catch up. You guys move pretty fast. What'd I miss?"

"Oh, my apologies. Yes, Madame Zellara's influence grew past the normal limits. She was a grand Lady"

1 round of Sociable trait gives allies +2 Dip. My own diplomacy roll in support of Fondo's roll 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26


half-elf
today's stuff, various:
Saves: ------------- HP: 96 Fort:12 Ref:15 Will:10 AC: 24 T:24 FL:14 Mutagen: Dex/Wis, lasts 20 minutes
Briar the Lesser wrote:

Briar retrieves the hatbox from his pack and hands it to Fosie.

"I guess you're now Fosie bearer."

Briar the wakkas wakkas back a few paces to retake his lookout position.

"I don't know where she should be buried. Uhm...Fondo, you're one of her kind, what would you think?"

See? This is what happens with PBP withdrawal is allowed to fester.

"Yes, Ma'am, it was a very dark night last night, but poor Madame Zellara's terror was some weeks ago,most likely. I'm not sure just what we do next for her."

Dandilion adds her diplomacy to the mix, if it will help 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12


Male Human (PER +6 | FORT+15 REF+9 WILL+11 | AC 26 (F24, T14) CMD28)

Nikolay looks around at the people talking at length with Fosie.

Have they no concept of how things work in the city? Words are nice, but gold sails are what's needed.

Nikolay walks up and hands Fosie 7 gold sails, hoping the party's appeals at least kept the price reasonable during these turbulent times.

"Please place her in the large field. I believe she would have preferred that."

I'm figuring Nikolay has spent about 20 gold so far. 5 plus covering others for Laura and the 7 here. He's not expecting to get it back, just keeping track.


Fosie turns to Nikolay, "Thank you." She then takes the hatbox and says, "Zellara will be cleaned up and buried with dignity in the large field. You'll be able to find her tomorrow, or the next day, there."

She points to a rather nice area in the main field with a bit of a view. Nothing spectacular, but a nice spot none the less.

"Is there anything else I may do for you? With the riots, things have been very busy here, and I have many souls to prepare for departure."

If there is nothing else, she leaves bowing slightly and carrying the hatbox with more reverence than you'd have thought.

Nikolay, I'm not tracking simple food and drink, but I am the other things. You can see your totals here. The link is always visible in the campaign info tab.


Male Human (Per +18 | Fort +12 Ref +16 Will +12 | AC 24 (f 19/t 17)| CMD 30/f 25)

"Is there a... number? How badly did Korvosa suffer last night?" Barael is not sure he wants to know, but Fosie's calm amidst the storm gives him the courage to ask. "Fosie, here is two gold. Please ease the worry of the next family or two who have no means of seeing a senseless loss through."

***

"Next port, the market? I believe there was talk of dwarves and Saul?" For Laura, for Zellara, and now for us. Once rid of Lamm's items, we'll be purged and ready to see to Korvosa.


Elf:
HP:113/113 AC: 21 (f17/t16)): K(Arc) +17, K(His) +7, K(Pl) +20, K(Rel) +20, Per +24, Sense +12, Spllcft +24/26

Happy to be done with the hatbox, but unsure what both the coins and words were all about, Briar is happy to be moving to the market, yet a bit apprehensive at the greater danger that is likely to be there.

We should have just left the hatbox with them.  What would they do?  *Not* bury it?  They are Pharasmans and have been charged by their god to such things.  No need for words or coins...just a strong arm to toss the head over the wall.

Briar shrugs his shoulders and readies his bow again for danger.

* * *

At the market, Briar checks for trouble.

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19 Perception

"I hope something is open and willing to buy these goods.  I can expect that some merchants will be seeking to profit on the chaos, others will be closed to protect what they have.  We shall see what is open."


It is midmorning. "We've got 30 bodies to bury from the violence last night. I suspect there will be many more as folks get more comfortable walking the streets." She shakes her head, "It is a sad day when a King dies, but the city is reacting poorly to the news."

You walk the scant two blocks to Eodred's Walk.

Fourteen shops form the semicircular face of Eodred's Walk. They stand separated from Eodred's Circle by a daily riot of color, activity, and scents that make up the gold market - on a good day. These permanent establishments and the transient vendors of the market form a symbiotic relationship. The shops of the mall offer a variety of permanent goods and services while the markets many stalls and tent sellers tend to specialize more in food and minor crafts. Three story whitewashed wooden buildings with their upper floors overhanging the ground floor to form a continuous covered pavilion house in the wedge shaped shops.

Today the circle stands largely empty (though there is one vendor selling jerk chicken on a stick), and a few of the shops in the walk are closed. A contingent of four town guard is positioned here to encourage trade, but very few are buying anything other than food.

The shops of the mall are as follows:
Aran's Crown - an ale house (no food). (closed)
Basha's - a small bookstore and map shop. (closed)
Saul’s Import/Export & Adventuring Supplies - just what it says. He also imports a wide variety of goods.
Galloping Ghost - a large shop that sells tack and barding for all manner animals including hippogriffs.
Gemshare Jewelers - run by two brothers just recently in the trade.
Hedge Wizardry - a magic shop run by Phaeton Skoda who dropped out of the Theumanexus College.
High Bridge Haberdashery - clothing from the high class to the rugged.
Kep's - a simple fishmonger providing a variety of catch of the day fish.
Fair-fished Bait shop - all the tools you need to fish. (closed- sign says, 'gone fishing')
Pinking Shears - barbershop.
Slicing Dicers - weapon shop - melee only.
Smoked Foods - a small and usually crowded shop (even today) it sells all manner of food. (packed)
Time Stop - a gnome tinker selling primarily timepieces, but who also dabbles in oddities.
Trapper's Hole - specializing in archery supplies. (closed)


Male Human (Init +7 | Per +16 | Fort +16 Ref +15 Will +11* +1 enchant, +4 language & sonic | AC 32 (f25/t19) | CMD36*)

Fondo looks at Nikolay and tries to assess his genealogy. Varisian? Chelish? Both? No true Varisian would put down sails before hearing the price.

"Thank you, Mother Fosie. And thanks to the Lady of Graves." He looks for a time on the cemetery before joining in the walk to the market. If only I had any part of her body to bring here. There is nothing, and I still don't know what to say to our family.

As he catches up with the group, he puts his arms on Charlie's and Dandilion's shoulders, walking companionably toward the market. Soon enough, his pace quickens and he starts to whistle an old Varisian ditty.

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