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Curse of the Crimson Throne

Game Master Euan


51 to 69 of 69 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | next > last >>

Briar sips his drink and eats quietly, lost in his own thoughts, occasionally looking around the Inn for the person he seeks.

After eating, Briar pushes his plate away from him and leans back in the chair, finally relaxing more and taking in the atmosphere.

Reaching his hand into his pocket, Briar retrieves the note that was passed to him earlier.

Briar whistles to himself as he reads the note, then glances around to see if anyone is watching him.

This is a joke.

Briar stands up, leaves a few coins on the table, and leaves the inn.


Still speaking quietly, Fondo smiles broadly. "Desna has truly brought us together this eve. What say we bring this Gaedren some ill fortune together?"


"My eyes feel fit to crossing." Barael looks back and forth between Fondo and Charlie, then down at his drink, and remembers the second drink.

He scurries back to the bar, slaps away the reaching hand of another bar patron, and reclaims the drink. Steadying the tankard, Barael transfers it from the bar to a small table adjacent to Nikolay. "I seldom receive a kindness like this, so the least you can do is take a sip, on your own time of course." Barael nods to Nikolay, and returns to Fondo and Charlie.

In hushed tones, Barael's eyes turn cat-like."If by ill fortune, you mean to abruptly change his status of health for the worse, you've got my undivided attention."


"Quiet man. The walls have ears." He draws Nikolay, Charlie and Barael aside, unintentionally within earshot of Dandilion. "For the worse? I can't vouch for that. It could be that I'll just be leeching away some bad humours. Repeatedly. But first I'll have this Lamm tell me of my sister's fate."


"Allow me to get clean, lest I be thrown out. We shall continue this topic shortly."

Using mage hand, Charlie pulls an empty pint from a nearby table to the floor to shatter. He then takes his leave to go upstairs and cleanse.


**Edit: not Nikolay. I misremembered him joining the hushed conversation.


Fondo Barondo wrote:
"Quiet man. The walls have ears." He draws Nikolay, Charlie and Barael aside, unintentionally within earshot of Dandilion. "For the worse? I can't vouch for that. It could be that I'll just be leeching away some bad humours. Repeatedly. But first I'll have this Lamm tell me of my sister's fate."

Distracted from her search for the girl by the mention of her worst nightmare, Dandilion startles, jumping a little as she spins in Fondo's direction. "Lamm? Not Gaedren Lamm, by any chance? Is he here? Did you see him?" an equally startled chitter from her pocket reminds her that invisibility is their friend, and jumping like a spider in a skillet is only going to make her more noticeable.

Lowering her voice, she slouches into a position of camaraderie that is intended to both make her seem one with group, and let her disappear behind it. "I mean, surely a man such as *Master* Lamm would be making more of a mark in the crowd, were he here?" Her over-sized irises darken to near black as she says the name; venom dripping from every syllable. If nonchalance was her aim; she has failed miserably this time around.


Pretty lady.


Fondo looks bewildered for a moment, and then smiles. What strange fate has conspired to gather us here tonight? Does Desna (or OOC player knowledge) work through me? Shall I be her vessel?

He continues, sotto voce, "My lovely lady of the moon and stars, fear not. For my arm and blade stand between you and Gaedren Lamm. His life ended the day he and his people took my sister. He is now but the walking dead. But tell me, what wrong has he done you, my new friends."


Work has me busy, but updated my profile. So many choices, I'm sure I'll regret them later, but ready to move forward.


"The last time I had to whisper, it was to avoid getting my knuckles bruised on the bars by the Guard, trying to talk with the other cellies." Barael looks down at his hand and rubs a phantom pain.

"From what I've gathered, Lamm got poor old Cantinas to witness against me for a murder I hadn't done. Now Cantinas is dead, and I've got no one but Lamm to clean my name to Cress..., to the Korvosan Guard." Barael's furrowed brow relaxes, and he makes it a point to look at each listening face in thanks. "That felt good to say. I mean, and have it heard, really heard."


Nikolay Vasilevich:
As you guard the fairly peaceful pub, you spy a small girl among the patrons. She looks somewhat familiar, but you can't quite place her. She is distinctive, so it's quite possible you've seen here elsewhere in the city. She has flaming red hair, long for her age, and bright wide eyes. Her face is currently dirty, but her smile is natural and friendly.

You realize you've been staring and that she's been walking directly to you. Smiling even more broadly she hands you a Harrow card - the Peacock. WIth surprising speed, she skips up the stairs presumably to a room in the Inn.

On the back of the card is written, 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 Buckminster:
As you leave your bath smelling slightly of lilac (the only soap they had) you just cover yourself when a young girl enters the bath room. She curtsies and smiles lightly as she hands you a Harrow card. Her eyes never leave yours until she turns around and skips out the door.

On the back of the card is written, 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.

As soon as you post your character info we can begin. Everyone else is, I think, ready.

The tone of the bar has changed subtly. It's hard to place it at first because you've been so engrossed with your discussion. Eventually you notice that the music has stopped and there's a lull in the various discussions around the pub. Almost like everyone is taking a breath at the same time, preparing for what's to come.


Briar leaves the inn, keeping the card in his pocket for a time while we walks away from the inn, making several left turns, then backtracking to see if he can spot anyone following him.

This doesn't make any sense, I've been very discreet. Well, as discreet as an elf can be in this damned city. Where is my freakin' brother?

Briar continues to walk from the bar, pausing every block to scan for followers, well aware that they might be hidden by magic, but unwilling to concede anything.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21 Perception

"Either I've lost them or they never existed," Briar finally relents and removes the card from his pocket to re-read.

* * *

Briar turns the card over and over again in his hands as the walks through one of Korvosa's streets, pondering its meaning.

The Avalanche. I like the art on the card; a skilled hand drew this, but why was it delivered to me? A note from my brother?

Briar's breath catches as he realizes that his brother might have sent this to him...but why does it mention Lamm? Briar had been the city no more than a few weeks seeking his brother, chasing down leads, and rejecting most of them outright.

Briar has learned it is hard to find one elf in a big city like this: there are no footprints to follow, nor animals to question, nor scent to track.

Briar shakes his head and sighs.

"My brother would not have been involved with shiver. Nor involved with Lamm. Yet every lead points to back to Lamm. I'll have to pursue this as well," Briar mumbles to himself.

Turning the card over, he reads the message again and thinks of Thorne.

While it is still hours until the meet time, and while mulling things over, Briar goes directly to 3 Lancet Street, walking by it a few times to see what he sees. After a few casual walk-bys (at random intervals and pretending nonchalance), he will see what he can learn about 3 Lancet.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18 Perception


Briar the Lesser wrote:
Briar continues to walk from the bar, pausing every block to scan for followers, well aware that they might be hidden by magic, but unwilling to concede anything.

A couple of well drunk guardsmen stumble past you on their way to the barracks, but otherwise the night is quiet. The seem to have come from another bar on your side of the river a little closer to shore.

I'm not prepared to show you lancet street quite yet. Later today - soon. :)


Nikolay's heart jumps as he reads the card. He dashes after the girl and stops as his foot hits the first step. I might not hold the law in much esteem these days, but I will keep my word." He seeks out Portenus to negotiate an end to his service.

"I will stay if you need me, sir, but I have received urgent news about which must follow up by midnight lest the information grow stale. Might I leave by the 11th bells? I would even pay for my meal."

Nikolay waits for an answer, his mind spinning about what to do if the answer is no.


Nikolay Vasilevich wrote:
"I will stay if you need me, sir, but I have received urgent news about which must follow up by midnight lest the information grow stale. Might I leave by the 11th bells? I would even pay for my meal."

Portenus laughs, "No, that's quite all right. We've had a good night and things are winding down. We usually close up around 11:00 anyway, so you won't be missing much. This is not normally a late night establishment even on Oathday. You're free to leave at 11 and keep the soup!"

He laughs some more - clearly something has put him in very good spirits tonight. Perhaps it is simply the large crowd filling his coffers and draining his ale. Or perhaps he is just a kind soul.


Charlie Buckminster:
Shoot - forgot to tell you that your Harrow card is the card of Crows.


Nikolay breathes easier knowing he will be free to leave. He looks at the peacock on the harrow card. He never spent the money for a harrow reading, but knows from his acadamae experience that there is actually power in the cards.

Did this ever come up in his studies at the acadamae? Knowledge (arcana) +7, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +7, Knowledge (local) +8, Knowledge (planes) +7, or Spellcraft +7 for the Peacock Harrow card?

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25


Knowledge Arcana gets you the most information... Good roll!

Each card symbolizes the six basic abilities of a creature, its moral and ethical stance, and the outlook of events past, present, and future. However, the positioning of the cards in a reading is what really gives them their power.

In this case the card is a neutrally aligned card of Dexterity. It represents a great beauty that can only be preserved if petrified and frozen in time for eternity, as by a cockatrice's glare.

The skill of the harrower is what lends the cards their power.

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