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Curse of the Crimson Throne

Game Master Euan


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Hello!
This is NOT a traditional recruitment thread. I already have all the players all lined up. I'm sorry. This thread exists for those players to flesh out their characters and get to know each other in a traditional PbP way. Please do not try to join the AP - we are full. Thanks for your patience.

For the rest of you, welcome!

Curse of the Crimson Throne Players Guide
Pathfinder Chronicles Guide to Korvosa (please do not read chapter 5)
An EXCELLENT guide to PBP gaming

Game Master and Player Commitment:

As the GM I will post at least twice a day (likely a lot more). I also expect players to post at least daily. If you are going to use abilities that interrupt the action (i.e. the feat Step Up), be prepared to post even more often. Those players who do post more often (within reason now, let's not get carried away) will likely be more prominent in the campaign.

There will of course be exceptions caused by real life, but I will not hesitate to let your character get “left behind” or “lost” and “found” later if necessary - what occurs in the meantime will vary depending on the player’s attitude and consideration for others. If you know you are going to be gone, just let me know and we'll work around it.

If your character is absent during combat and you're holding us up, I will Delay your action, or chose an appropriate action for you - whatever seems to make the most sense. I will always try to leave plenty of time for folks to catch up - I know we all have other responsibilities.

Character Creation:

Please create your character generally following the Pathfinder Society rules. 20pt buy for stats, 250gp starting cash (higher then the normal 150), 2 traits. Obviously ignore Factions. A useful guide to character creation can be found on the d20pfsrd.com website.

Please read the Players Guide and follow the suggestions within. Select one of the traits from the Players Guide and one other.

I prefer the standard races. As to class, I am more interested in character than class. Build a character that is interesting and capable of solving problems. Please do not build a stupid barbarian beat-stick. You won't have much fun in this AP. That isn't to say you won't be fighting, just avoid the one dimensional character. Also no gunslingers. Sorry, but I like my fantasy fantastic and the gunslinger throws me off a bit. I reserve the right to say no to any build.

I will be paying special attention to your characters history and background. As per the Players Guide you have all been wronged by Gaedren Lamm, and I will look for that in your history.

When creating your alias for the campaign, please check out this example: Othoe. Feel free to customize to your liking (or simply export a HeroLab sheet in place of much of the broken down data). I particularly like the breakdown of stats where the class/level field is. That will be helpful to me as a DM.

For the most part, Korvosans are a friendly and helpful lot. And meticulous. They follow the rules, walk the line, and fill out the forms exactly as instructed. Even their most powerful criminals obey certain regulations laid out for them, going so far as to pay taxes on some of their ill-gotten goods! This citywide desire to regulate and obey probably comes from Korvosa’s deep military history and long militaristic traditions. If you have no love of the military it’s best to keep your mouth shut here.

You will begin in a large inn called Leftover's in the East Shore E2 on the map of Korvosa found in the players guide. You have assembled to watch a short play put on by the one armed proprietor Portenus Gaskelini. It's a wonderful and campy bit of entertainment re-inacting how the landlord lost his arm to a Shoanti tribesman before taking their own head in return. By the end, thanks in no small part to the freely flowing cheap ale, the place is packed, smokey and sweaty. It is Oathday in the month of Desnus and in the year 4707.


Hope to post something in the next couple of days. Still working on character concept.


The crush of people still had Dandilion a little jumpy. She kept expecting a knife out of the shadows to come calling her name. But a girl's gotta eat, and there were only a few ways she was going to make that happen. Getting back to work seemed more likely to provide the results she wanted and less likely to leave her retching in the gutter later, so here she was.

She'd taken to wearing her hair down around her face, the long ash brown strands helping to cover the new scar on her cheek and with her head down and her collar up, she managed to look nearly nondescript enough as to be invisible, should anyone try to describe her later. As long as she never looked them in the eye, she'd be fine.

Working her way around the edges of the crowd, though, she looked for her client. He said he'd be here, but so far she hadn't picked him out of the crowd. And whatever he was, Bezzeraty was NOT nondescript. If he were here, she'd be able to feel it, like a spider and a web, some people she just knew when they were near.

The thought brought a smile to her lips and her hand to the small cage she kept tucked under her jacket. Her finger trembled as she thought of just reaching in to pet Wraith, but best not to draw attention to her. People tended to remember things like that.

Instead she found a small shadowy corner to call her own, watching the crowd with her back to the wall so the crowd couldn't watch her.


Two women work the crowd while Portenus stays behind the bar. The first has wide hips and an even wider bosom and commands more of the attention of the male clientel. As a result, she is slow to move through the room and take orders.

The second has a more haunted look and is thin almost to the point of un-health though quick. It is she who arrives at your small table and asks you,
"What will you be drinking tonight? I think there is still be some stew left, and maybe a bit of the lamb as well."

Her sunken eyes pay little attention to yours as she awaits the answer, keen to get back with the order. You've heard Leftover's specializes in a thick ale and a light dandelion wine on such occasions...


Ah, well that’s just perfect. The sweat and the swill. The cologne was meant to make a good impression, and it’d be lost if she happened to attend tonight’s performance. Let alone that everyone was so blasted tall up in here.

She’s probably already in here somewhere, receiving the attention of some strapping sellsword. Juni-Juni-Juniper, how I’d like to walk with her, Down the lane the cold wind blows, just to make her wrinkle nose. You think she’ll like that, Aroden?

Barael matted down his hair, and brushed down his sleeves, trying to sidestep every drunkard with a hint of sway. The rapier was probably a bit over the top, and it kept getting knocked around. Aroden, close Your ears if anyone rips this shirt.

He would need a vantage point, a place in the bar where he could speck the crowd, and watch the door for her red hair coming in the door, or leaving for that matter.

Barael scans the crowd for locks of red.
Perception 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (16) + 0 = 16


Barael de Gare wrote:
Barael scans the crowd for locks of red.

As it's an upscale bar, you don't see the usual red Varisian scarves that you might find in some of the pubs you're more accustomed to. You see very little red hair at all as well.

Though there is a redheaded child that looks your way as you comb through the crowd. Just for an instant you catch a glimpse of a dirty face and wide clear eyes looking at you. But like a good game of hide and seek when you blink, she's gone.


Nikolay walks into the inn. Back straight. Head held high. His red and black tabard close fitting over his chain shirt. His black pants sharp looking but loose enough to easily move. His boots shined to a high polish just as they taught him at the Endrin Military Academy. Easily mistaken for a Korsovan Guard, except the glaring omission of any crests or markings.

He takes a glass of wine in one hand, but the other always alternates between resting lightly on the pommel of his longsword or flexing lightly. You must always be ready. Your arcane power is no good if you cannot use it. His training at the acadamae has served him well.

Turn your heads. Hide your eyes. Whisper away for all I care. Yes, the "murderer" walks among you. I had it all and you took it all, but my honor is my own.


DM_Euan wrote:

The second has a more haunted look and is thin almost to the point of un-health though quick. It is she who arrives at your small table and asks you,

"What will you be drinking tonight? I think there is still be some stew left, and maybe a bit of the lamb as well."

Her sunken eyes pay little attention to yours as she awaits the answer, keen to get back with the order. You've heard Leftover's specializes in a thick ale and a light dandelion wine on such occasions...

"I'll ahhh... "The girl mentally fingers the coins in her purse, counting out all that she hasn't got... But perhaps, just this once, "Some of your dandelion wine, and a bit of the stew." She raises her head for just a moment, relying on the woman's exhaustion and overwork, and the minimal light in her area to keep her secrets.


Barael sizes up the straight-backed stranger, then surveys the room for members of the Korvosan Guard.
Perception1d20 ⇒ 6

Well, at least someone wears the colors well. Barael works his way to a bar stool, and procures a glass of wine. He shifts his new leather belt uncomfortably, and raises his wrist to his nose. His gaze returns to the doorway, and he tries to rise out of his seat every now and then, to look over the shoulders.

Barael can't help but try listen in on nearby conversations, hoping to catch the subtle rise before laughter breaks out. His laughter answers the jokes too late. It doesn't take long for him to realize he needs to cease his attempts.


Nikolay laughs freely at the play and enjoys the wine. When the performance is over, he squeezes through the crowed to Portenus.

"Quite the crowd today. I've heard the story of your lost arm many times, but your performance was spectacular. I'll take another wine please."

Nikolay hands the proprietor a gold piece, hoping Portenus finally has an answer to his usual inquiry for information about Gaedren Lamm. If not, he might at least have a line on some work.


@ Dandilion
"Here's your stew. It's pretty fresh tonight for the performance." The waitress quickly and efficiently delivers your stew and an unfortunately small goblet of wine. She collects the three silver shields the meal cost (and any tip you care to give) and strides away to serve the other patrons. You're fairly sure she'll not be able to identify you to others...

@ Barael
Other than the newcomer there are none here that look to be in the guard. With the prices here you'd expect the modestly paid guard to be elsewhere for their entertainment and feeding.

@ Nikolay
"Thank you sir! Nikolay isn't it? No, no new news on your Gaedren fellow. As I've said before I doubt he works this side of the Jeggare, but I will keep my eyes open." He pockets the gold sail happily.

"If things keep up the way they are, I may have work for you as a guard. These crowds are getting large, and with any large crowd a certain element tends to creep in." He thinks for a moment and tosses your sail back. "I'll tell you what - keep an eye on things for me tonight sort of low key and dinner and drinks are on me. You'll not get fairer than that for a couple hours easy work - after all the show's already over!"


Nikolay accepts his sail back from Portenus. Someday I won't worry over a single gold, but for now...

"I accept your offer, but take any work seriously. The stew smells good and reminds me of easier and happier days in this town. I'll take some of that, but pass on any more drinks. I don't need to give anyone any more excuses to question my actions."


Portenus takes a moment to eye Nikolay more closely. He nearly says something but is interrupted by a young Varisian who asks, "Shall I begin now landlord?". Nodding in the affirmative, "Yes Ruan go ahead." Portenus apparently lost his thought and moves down the bar to tend to some other guests.

The youth Ruan begins to dance lightly through the throng moving about the tables slowly as he takes out a small ocarina. He begins to play it and even the most boisterous of the crowd quiet down a moment to hear the lilting notes.

As with most crowds however the swell of background noise returns and the bar is awash with a combination of the music and loud speech. Ruan seems nonplussed by the environment however and continues to pour out his soul through the small instrument as he dances from table to table in his own world.


Rapiers and scoundrels fill the bar this evening. One dashing and seemingly oblivious Varisian with his head in a scarlet wrap draws oaths and glares from the ethnic Chelaxians in the crowd. Gliding through the assembled throng, he takes a stool next to Dandilion.

"Ah, Desna smiled upon your mother and granted her the fortune of a beautiful daughter. May I buy you a drink, my lovely?"

The Varisian projects the confidence of one who knows he's got game, but the his attention wanders furtively.

First I'm going to find him. Then I'm going to fill him full of holes. Then I'm going to find her. No, wait. Find him, find her, fill him full of holes. Yes. Right.


I feel like yesterday's mashed potatoes. I think I still have that bit of jingle to get me some soup.

A bedraggled monk's cowl moves slowly and carefully through the crowd looking for a piece of something to sit on. The crowd tends to part before him as people turn and look with disgust at what that awful smell is attached to. Finding part of a stool he balances on the two remaining legs as he begins to look for his coin. It takes him about 10 minutes to find it which is surprising because he only has the one pouch. It was in his shoe.

I better try to clean this thing up or the waitress won't take it

He proceeds to spit shine the coin which does not really help.


Fondo smells and then sees the old man in a monk's cowl. Thanks, gadjo. Always nice to have an odiferous vagrant to distract the marks.

"Gods, what's that smell?" he says to Dandilion in a rather amiable fashion. "Lady Butterfly, perhaps we should find a more sweet smelling room and get to know each other. They call me Boldo."


Barael takes his cue from the newly encountered smell of monk to vacate his barstool, and saunter over to Nikolay.

"No crests on your breast, I see. Are you trying to get in with the guard?" he says to Nikolay as he tries to tuck his shirt in. The belt is cinched pretty tightly. "I had mine made special, so I looked my part running messages back and forth."

Barael studies the crimson and black clad warrior. Have I seen this chap on duty before?
Knowledge,Local1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14


More than one patron slides a few feet further from the new arrival, and there are a few whispers about the worsening quality of the establishment if such folk are allowed in.

Barael de Gare:
Your knowledge check doesn't reveal anything, but something nags at you. Maybe you've seen him somewhere else - other than the guard?


Fondo gets up to buy Dandilion a drink,and accidentally bombs into Nikolay.

Sleight of hand 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Sometime later he might find himself relieved of some loose coin or other item of worth... Howev, for now Fomdo buys Nikolay and Barael a round. "Well met, sirs. Boldo's what they call me."


Nikolay Vasilevich:
You have lost 1d3 ⇒ 1 gold sail. Perception check vs DC 20 to catch the thief!

Fondo Barondo:
You get 1 gold sail from the theft.


DM_Euan wrote:

@ Dandilion

"Here's your stew. It's pretty fresh tonight for the performance." The waitress quickly and efficiently delivers your stew and an unfortunately small goblet of wine. She collects the three silver shields the meal cost (and any tip you care to give) and strides away to serve the other patrons. You're fairly sure she'll not be able to identify you to others...

Dandilion watches through her lashes as a nearly a half of a hard earned gold sail gets scooped off the table by the waitress, the stew and wine left in its place. It’s too much, that tip, but the woman looked so haggard, so done in by life, and who wouldn’t in a crowded, noisy place, such as this?

*************************

Fondo Barondo wrote:

"Ah, Desna smiled upon your mother and granted her the fortune of a beautiful daughter. May I buy you a drink, my lovely?"

The Varisian projects the confidence of one who knows he's got game, but the his attention wanders furtively.

dice rolls for thought processes:

Perception to see him enter and head this way1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Sense motive to notice his furtive attention 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (12) - 1 = 11

Dandi watches the wannabe “Silvio Swordslinger” weave through the crowd, a small smile on her too pert mouth at his grace and finesse threading through the room. But she didn’t expect him to turn her way, nor to settle on the stool close by. It catches her off guard, and those too-big, too-blue eyes of hers flash wide for a moment, at least before the mentions her mother, “I have one, thanks the same, Stranger.”

Fondo Barondo wrote:
"Gods, what's that smell?" he says to Dandilion in a rather amiable fashion. "Lady Butterfly, perhaps we should find a more sweet smelling room and get to know each other. They call me Boldo."

Her features shutter and her nose wrinkles, though from the suggestion or from the scent of the monk’s piety is anyone’s guess. But both the man and the scent are bold enough, and memorable enough, that she should be able to slip right back into the woodwork next to him.

“Boldo, is it? We can’t let a little streetstink send us rushing through things, now can we? But I think I’ve changed my mind about that drink. This one, “ and at this, she tips her glass and weaves it sadly “this one is all gone.”

She flashes her best grin at that, making sure to keep her head tipped just so, hair and shadow covering the scar. Maybe he’ll bring back the drink, unless he gets caught picking that man’s purse, that is.

perception:
to see Boldo’s bold handiwork in Nikolay. 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

Either way, the night is looking to be so much more entertaining than most of her meetings with Bezzeraty. She may even get through it thread-free.


Roleplaying or rollplaying?:
Bluff to disguise wandering eyes 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Diplomacy to flirt with Dandilion, though that's not really pertinent between PCs: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

Diplomacy to make nice with the marks at the counter (Niko & Bar): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Bluff to not seem like the conniving cad that he is: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12 +1 to all if the character likes boys, -? for whatever stereotypes you hold about heavily accented Varisians

Fondo buys the finest four drinks that one gold sail can buy. "The drinks are on me and my lady friend over here. Join us?"


While waiting, Dandi scans for a break in the crowd at eye-level, the tell-tale signature of Bezzeraty's presence. She drops her hand into the little cage in her pocket, stroking Wraith's back, soothing them both with one touch.


No criticism meant by 'Roleplaying or rollplaying?' I thought a few dice rolls was a great way to improv how the characters might be responding to each other. Sometimes rolls can help us play our roles.


1d20 ⇒ 17 fail

Nikolay looks at the clumsy man in the red scarf and wonders at his offer of a drink. Perhaps not everyone in the city believes me to be a killer.

"Thank you for the offer of a drink, but I don't drink while working. Perhaps another time when things are less crowded."

Nikoklay shifts in the crowd, trying to find a space with his back to the wall so he can view everything.


@ Charlie
The bartender sees you and comes over, eyes watering slightly from the smoke filled room. "Sir, I don't mean to be rude, but this is a finer establishment. Perhaps you could get a room upstairs and freshen up a touch before returning to the bar?" He actually sounds legitimately concerned for your well being and does not come across as rude. He seems to b assuming you've just had a long day and are a little the worse for it.

@ Dandilion and Fondo
The world weary waitress again returns to your table. "Well we do have some Chellish wine, but that's 10 sails a bottle. The Ale and Dandelion wine are 1sp each tonight. We had some stout earlier, but we're fresh out now." She awaits your request ducking slightly to avoid the dancing bard as he weaves through the crowd.

@ Nikolay
You find an excellent spot to watch the place but find it inhabited by a Halfling sailor. This not being a sailors bar you're a little surprised until you look a little closer and see he must e a captain - or at least a higher officer. Still, he's in your spot, and it's not like it buys him much... he's too short to see over the crowd in any event.


Fondo flashes a smile at Nikolay. "More for me, then." He takes two tankards of ale and a flagon of dandelion wine back to the table, leaving one for Barael. Seeing the put-upon waitress waiting to take an order, he says, "We're quite good for drinks, my sweet little primrose. Have you some mutton, though? Two bowls. It's on me, my lovely." He hands Dandilion the wine — much better suited for a lass.

4sp of Nikolay's sail, plus the cost of mutton.


Rollplaying:
Sense Motive1d20 ⇒ 19

Barael shifts his focus from Nikolay to the whirling dervish. "Boldo, is it? Well met, indeed. For your generosity, call me friend first, Barael second." A moment in the circle of the warrior, and I have a free drink in my hand. I'll remember that.

"The invitation to join you is tempting, Bondo, but there are two wheels on a cart, not three, and you seem to have your hands full." Barael watches Nikolay excuse himself. "Perhaps I should tend his drink, Bondo. Leave it with me, and if he changes his mind, he may find it well-guarded, although warmer for his indecision."


Roll Playing:
Sense Motive1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

I see some connections connecting. Maybe I can sidle up to this party and give myself a break from the crumbs and the filth.

"Yes, Barkeep. I am in great need of a hot rinse and a hot meal and a cool drink. Alas I do not have much in the way of Earthly treasure. Much ministering to the sick and bedraggled has left me a touch bereft but I have more than nothing. I would be happy to revive some of your food stocks that have suffered a similar fate as I. I can fix your broken crockery or fill your water reserves, but alas I can not pay you for a room I so desperately need."

Yeh, so I'm offering up castings of mending, purify food/drink, or create water in exchange for a nice bath and maybe some food and some booze. In the process of all this I use my Sociable trait to give myself and my man Fondo a +2 to our diplomacy rolls


Having returned to Dandi, Fondo hears Barael calling after him for the second drink. "Ah. It seems I have a future here as a bartender. Will you excuse me for a moment, lady butterfly?" Returning to the bar, Fondo gamely puts down the extra tankard where Nikolay had been sitting. His grin at Barael resembles that of a fox. "Good thinking. The man earned this drink, keeping us safe from thieves and cutthroats. What do you call yourself, sir?"

Fondo grimaces a bit as the cloud of body odor approaches the bar. Gods, someone get that man a bath. "I would gladly attest to the abilities of my friend here... " Whispering to Charlie, he says, "What's your name, friend?"

Sensing that the older man is trying to set him up for a pitch, Fondo continues, "If only you'd give him leave to wash his nethers forthwith. He's truly a man of great craft and... Truly stands out." As your nose must be telling you.

Diplomacy 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 2 = 10* (* = +1 if the barkeep likes fellas)

Sensing skepticism, he adds, "Er. How about a silver for the benefit of a bath?" See? I am nothing if not generous with ill gotten gains.


@ Charlie - See if you can seal the deal with a diplomacy check, +2 for Fondo's assist in addition to your +2.


@Fondo, whispering"Boldo, eh? My name'c Charlie"

"Ah, well! Thank you very much, sir! Your reward awaits you in heaven. A little boost is all I need. Soon I will be the pope of The Shingles! Mr. Bartender, sir will you not earn your place in line through the heavenly gates?"

Diplomacy1d20 + 2 + 2 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 2 + 2 + 8 = 26


Dandilion Dreamstruck:
During a break while you're alone at the table, a small girl with red hair, a dirty face and wide pretty eyes walks up and hands you a harrow card. She curtsies and walks back into the crowd.

As you examine the card the bard dances by and throws you off for a second as he almost seems to be playing just for you... just for a moment. The card is the Dancer. On the back is a short note,

I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he resides, yet I cannot strike him. Maybe you can. Come to my home at 3 Lancet street at midnight. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done.

@Charlie
The bartender gives you a look and makes a hard decision. "Very well! It is Oathday after all and time for celebration! I'll tell you what. Return here tomorrow and repair all the glassware I break tonight and the bath, a drink, and a meal are yours!"

"Will you make an oath on it?"


"I swear."


"Now, will you turn this coin into some inebriation so that I may enjoy my food tomorrow? And, I thank you from the bottom of my heart"


Barael de Gare:
As you drink your free ale, you spot the red headed child you saw before. Once again her wide eyes are upon you, but this time, you realize suddenly, she's standing right in front of you. Without a word she hands you a Harrow card and disappears again in the sea of the crowd. You catch a flicker of her pretty red hair for just a moment, and she's gone.

The card is the Locksmith and on the back is a short note.

I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he resides, yet I cannot strike him. Maybe you can. Come to my home at 3 Lancet street at midnight. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done.

@ Charlie
He grins widely, "I like you sir! But bath first if you please - you are quite ripe!" He chuckles and gestures to the stairs.


Fondo Barondo:
A beautiful young girl, well, OK, maybe too young, approaches you at the bar. She smiles broadly and you imagine she things you handsome. She draws a Harrow card almost absently from a deck and hands it to you. It's the Rabbit Prince. She smiles and walks away disappearing in the crowd.

On the back is a note, I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he resides, yet I cannot strike him. Maybe you can. Come to my home at 3 Lancet street at midnight. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done.


With a smile as bright as the sun, "But of course, Commodore."

"Welcome to your newest abode. How long will it take to piss this guy off. I wonder."


The elf adjusts his rosewood armor before entering the inn.

"I hope I am not too late," Briar says under his breath.

Yet another lead to track down before I pursue the next. I will find answers. I will.

With a sigh, Briar opens the door and waits for his eyes to adjust to the light before entering.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20 Perception for Thorne, elves, or other true beings

Briar will look for an open table, not too interested in watching the play, but a spot wherein he can watch others.


Dandi looks up, startled by the coincidence between the card and the dancer for a moment, she forgets herself. She searches the crowd again, this time for a flash of red hair, a wee dirty face, or those enchanting eyes and perhaps, for more information.

perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13


Briar the Lesser:
As your eyes adjust to the bright interior from the darkness of the streets, you focus on a small girl with flaming red hair and wide eyes. She looks up at you with her dirty little face and hands you a Harrow card.

The card, Avalanche, reminds you of colder climes and brighter days. As you turn to thank her, she's gone, back in the throng of the bar. Shrugging you turn the card over to see a note on the back side.

I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he resides, yet I cannot strike him. Maybe you can. Come to my home at 3 Lancet street at midnight. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done.

@ Dandilion
Against the odds you catch a glimpse of the girl framed by the new visitor to the bar as she hands him a Harrow card of his own. As he looks down at the card she moves back into the crowd and you quickly lose sight of her.


"wait, I just want to..." Her words get lost quickly in the noisy throng. She should be good at this, she *is* good at this, having made her ways through the crowds of Korvosa as much of her life as she can remember. And yet, and yet, Oh where has she disappeared to?

perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15


Briar takes the card more out of surprise than actually wanting it, placing it in his pocket for later.

Strange greetings here.

Briar makes his way to an open table, intent on asking his questions and then moving on.

At the table, he will try to signal for service, seeking a light meal before asking any questions.


@ Briar
You watch as a curvaceous waitress wends her way toward you. It takes her some time to arrive, and she seems slightly distracted while you place your order. She heads toward the bar and picks up two other orders as she goes...


Fondo's rather relaxed demeanor disappears as he reads the note. He reaches out to where the girl had been, as if to grab her. Esmira... He looks at the note again and mutters loud enough for Charlie and Barael to hear, "Lancet Street. Gaedren?"


"Did you say Gaedren?" Barael says to Fondo, closing the distance to avoid having to raise his voice above the crowd's rumble, and squirreling away the Harrow card as if it were a picture card of amorous lovers. "Do you know him? Run in his circles as it were?"

Aroden, you've finally steered me closer to my prize, haven't you, you old dog. All these sleepless nights may come to an end.

"And you wouldn't happen to know what time it is, would you?"


The guile that dropped from Fondo's face returns doubly as he takes in Barael's words. He mutters back quietly, "Not a friend of mine, this Gaedren. Can't say I know him, though I'm certain he and I have... business to discuss. Is he a friend of yours?"

Poke twenty three holes in him. After he tells you where she is. Not before, after. Unless the holes leave him breathing. Then one last thrust through his pie hole. That's it. Yeah.


Sense motive 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

As he turns to scrape the street off, Charlie hears the dreaded name. "I will not speak his name again, but it sounds like the business you have to discuss with him is similar to mine." The tone of Charlie's voice and the globs of spit that fly unrestrained from his lips show a lack of control that makes Charlie blush.


Gaedren! They speak of that monster.

Nikolay moves closer to the group to listen in. Unfortunately, subtlety has never been one of his strengths.

1d20 ⇒ 6 - Bluff non-interest


Barael de Gare wrote:
"And you wouldn't happen to know what time it is, would you?"

It is currently 9:30pm. Time will pass slowly until a couple more of you finish your characters.

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