Word from the burgeoning dock had spread. They wanted to know who was the first to rebuild in this tumultuous time. Understandably it was lowly House Fordyce, who had nothing to lose. Like House Arkona of old, he staked his future on something small to see it grow into something magnificent.
At least, that was the story he was spreading in the slums. The Arkonas had a good foothold and reputation there, despite them being partially responsible for the tricked cannibalism of All the World's Meats. There needed to be a new player, even if it were just a small one. And House Fordyce had the habit of showing up just when the stuffed Aristocracy got too full of itself. Like his forebears, aimed to do the impossible.
The dock was being built quickly, and in the meantime, Cal began playing impromptu concerts for the people. In the streets, in taverns, and in parlors, his music was heard. He played for the poor, he played for the rich, and he played for the sailors and he played for the pseudodragons. Calcedon of House Fordyce was slowly becoming a household name.
As soon as the docks were finished, several more captains expressed desire to meet with Cal personally, and if something were needed, it was to spruce up the house to the point that one could see good things were happening there. To receive more wealthy visitors, he had the stables refurbished, and he hired some Shoanti workers to dredge out his well, use the rich mud found at the bottom to fertilize his courtyard, and a thin layer of grass had already started sprouting along with some flowers that he had brought in from outside the walls.
The dredging ended up clogging up some of the castle's pipes, and some halfling plumbers were called in to assess the situation. It seemed some of the pipes could use with some repair, and while everything was still torn up, they managed to get the work done, bringing in a pet slime to clear the pipe and a costly magical hardening potion was spent down the drain to reinforce the pipes.
The obsene statue of Calcedon was also clothed in some thin sheets of metal pounded into ornate design, bearing the crest of the house instead of his own exaggerated proportions. The edifice was placed in a central place on a dias, welcoming anyone coming through the gate with a cocksure grin.
Some say the First Chair had come into some money underhandedly, some say that he beat up a gang of rogues. In any case, there was definitely movement within the camp, and the enigmatic noble still played on the balcony in the early hours of the morning, and at night was caught gazing over the river.
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Day 13:
It seemed rather rediculous that Calcedon had climbed up on top of his roof, but he'd insisted on it, much to the chagrin of Spider and Pobie who'd managed to get a rope on him before his grand escapade. "Look! I am not going to allow any cloakers on this roof, you hear? " the bard shouted above the wind.
"Firs char! Pobie looked on in despair as he held tight to the rope and let it slip tenuously through his fingers as the master of the house climbed a bit higher.
Spider was trying to be reasonable. "Let one of us andle it! He shouted as Cal actually lost his grip and slid down the shingles.
Pobie and Spider gripped hard, and the bard rolled off the roof and swung down past the second floor and ended up dangling about a dozen feet off the ground. At least one screech was heard from inside as he went past a window, followed by a baby crying. Having the wind knocked out of him by the fall, though glad not to be splattered on the ground next to the flower bed, he gave an affirming sign to the guys on the roof holding his rope and hollered at them. "I've just had an idea. I should delegate this responsibility. Feilaken is good at climbing mountains, right? This should be easy for him. Tell him I'll double his potato ration."
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Understandably it was lowly House Fordyce, who had nothing to lose. Like House Arkona of old, he staked his future on something small to see it grow into something magnificent.
Look like th' innocent flower, but be the serpent under’t.
It's been weeks since Eodred II's death, and while the riots seemed to have calmed and the city survived yet another threat against it, petty criminal activity is actually on the rise. The queen is as unpopular as ever, despite (or because of) her clear efforts to reign in the city's chaotic tendencies. Thanks to the determined efforts of a sizeable band of her detractors, she has now become the face of a rather ugly rumor--she herself poisoned the king, killing her own husband to claim the Crimson Throne.
However, just yesterday, news spread through the city like wildfire, telling of a young guard's confession as a co-conspirator in the late king's assassination. The guard swore that he and his partner, a painter named Trinia Sabor who was commissioned to paint the king, slipped a specially-prepared poison into Eodred's tea the night he took ill and her contract portrait was completed.
After the confession, the guard is said to have jumped from a tower of Castle Korvosa, in shame for his crime. Trinia Sabor's name is now on the lips of the city, and riots again threaten to erupt... This time, however, the cries are not for the queen's head, but for the death of the king's true murderer!
This morning, as you set down for breakfast with the Lambs, a breathless Korvosan Guard delivers a message to you: Field Marshal Cressida Kroft needs to speak with you immediately, and she herself should be arriving in a few moments.
Pietro was enjoying a 'funny face' game with one of the kids when he stated, "You all heard about this artist who supposedly poisoned the king?"
He paused for a moment, "Is that the best lead they have on the regicide?"
tag?
The Dr. was ready to move. He had switched out his only appointment for today, the fat lady that came for the miraculous bandages, and had brought his bag and thick leather coat.
He looked at his companions, "I surmise this is how the Marshall contacts you? I'd like to be present to hear what she has to say if it's alright."
tag?
I surmise this is how the Marshall contacts you?
Well, it ain't 'ow she's been contactin' us... The Field Marshal's more direct approach in communication seems to worry Mouse - what possible reason could she have to leave her fortress behind? Was there a message so urgent it couldn't wait for them to travel? Or...was the Citadel not safe enough, or secure enough, for what she had to say?
But the why didn't matter much...the fact was, the Field Marshal was about to arrive - and there were several tiny possible eavesdroppers to take care of. Thinking quickly, she scoops Blister up from her chair and dangles the small girl over her shoulder. I got an idea - sittin' in a stuffy dinin' room ain't no fun. Why don't you'n's take out some o' th' fruit an' cheese an' bread an' 'ave a picnic breakfast? Loads more fun - I bet one o' th' servants'd even find y' a blanket t' spread out on, if y' ask nice-like.
Go on, 'ave a good big breakfast in th' sun - an' tell y' what, th' one what c'n fin' th' biggest pinecone f'r me by th' time I get out there's gonna get two cookies f'r dessert tonight. See to it m'self, I will - but y' gotta look 'ard, an' keep lookin', or one o' th' others might find one better.
With the Lambs' attention diverted, Mouse turns back to the others, trying to get the numerous small braids in her hair laid into place. 'Opefully that'll keep 'em occupied f'r a while - whatever she's comin' t' say don't need no little ones snoopin'. Ain't got no idea wha's goin' on, but judgin' by th' last couple jobs, I sure ain't got no problem w' a doctor taggin' 'long, 'f you're ok wit' it.
The weather had delayed the ship that Li was on so they only made port early that morning. She hurried to the Fordyce Estate with a spring in her step, feeling better for knowing about her past even though she still had a lot of questions. She finds the others having breakfast. She walks in as Mouse heaves Blister over her shoulder. "This be new breakfast activity. Ya be addin' excercisin' ta tha meal? So what'd I be missin? Ya all be lookin' like ya be expectin' someone.
tag everyone
Li has barely walked into the house before Mouse returns from the yard, fixing her hair. There is little time for catching up, it seems, for only a few minutes later, Field Marshal Kroft arrives at the house with a handful of tense-looking guards. "Good Morning, Master Fordyce. I apologize for this convenience, but our business this day is urgent." With a stiff nod toward Garel she marches brisquely into the parlor. Her demeanor is nervous and impatient as she waves you into the unoccupied room and stations her guards just outside.
She nods curtly once everyone is settled. "Dr. Bartori, nice to see you again. If your friends trust you, so do I." She looks around as though someone might be listening, then starts in a low voice. "You've doubtless heard the stories that the king's killer has been named. Yet there's something more going on here, I'm afraid. Queen Ileosa could have quietly had this Trinia Sabor arrested at any time, yet the way in which she revealed the information to the city seems to me like...like she wants the riots to come back."
Cressida sighs and continues. "The streets are amuck with a mob. There's a veritable witch hunt going on for this girl. With the mob and the Hellknights out on the street she doesn't stand a chance at a trial... they'll lynch her the moment they find her. And even if she did kill the king, mob 'justice' isn't the way. Worse, if she's innocent, the real killer can use this distraction to throw us off the trail forever."
"Before Trinia is executed, we need to be absolutely sure she did this thing, and that means we need to catch her before the mob does. Fortunately, we know where she lives -- a flat in Midland -- but soon, so will the mob. The Hellknights don't seem to care as much about catching her as they do about containing the mob... something about the "order of law" makes it a greater priority for them than a possible assassin. I can't say I disagree completely, but the problem is the Hellknights are only making the situation worse. If I send my guards into this mess, it will be riots all over again."
She looks around to each of you. "I'm sure you can see where this is going. I need you to get into Midland, find Trinia, and bring her back to me so we can deliver her, safe and sound, to somewhere she can be questioned, preferably with magic, to learn her true role in King Eodred's death. Get in there, catch her, and get out without letting the mob get its hands on her. I'll have agents and officers nearby. If you can get her to one of them, we'll be in the clear. You'll be paid 1,500 sails if you do so. But there's no time to waste. Every minute we delay is another minute for the mob to grow. Any questions?"
Yaziyah sits on the arm of a couch, a leg dangling, fingers twinning in her long braid. She has many questions - such as, wasn't it just so very convenient that the young guard had confessed and then taken his own life, just in time to distract from the rumours that named the queen as the killer? And why on the gods' good earth would a painter want to murder the king? What, did he stint her? No, this smelled fishier than a day's catch left out in the sun, but it was useless to speculate unless they had the girl to answer for herself. And to that end...
"What do we know about this Trinia Sabor? How does she look like? Does she have any family? Friends? Where did she study? Do the palace doctors agree it was poison?" She leans forward as she speaks, pinning the marshal with her intent gaze.
She nods curtly once everyone is settled. "Dr. Bartori, nice to see you again. If your friends trust you, so do I."
Pietro nods, "I will not disappoint you, Marshall. You'll find my tongue hard to pry lose."
After Yaziyah asks her questions, Pietro adds his own, "After all the rumors, I think this girl is probably hiding somewhere. We can start with her home but where else? I also would like to know about family and friends she might have."
As Li came in through the gate, the Master of House Fordyce gave a shout and a jubilant smile. "Li, so good to see you! Come on in, you've arrived just in time. Field Marshall Cressida is going to be arriving shortly to let us know what is to be done."
As Cressida made her plea, Calcedon pursed his lips in thought. "I agree that she should have a trial. It would be good to find evidence to what has been happening. If the poison was good enough to fool royal investigators, the assassin would have to be well funded. In any case she must be found. Give us the address and never you mind you're sending us into a warzone. I'd be glad to keep our town firmly within it's strengths of Law and Order over the Chaos that has been plaguing us lately."
Li can't help but return Cal's smile when he greets her upon her return. No one had ever been happy to see her before and she found that she liked it.
Li focuses on the situation at hand as the Field Marshall explains what she wished of them. The rogue couldn't help wondering if Trinia would actually be safe anywhere. Can tha Field Marshall truly be guaranteein' her safety?
"Mebbe we should also be knowin' more about tha guard that confess'd. If'n they be partners then mebbe she be hidin' out somewhere attach'd ta him. If'n I be Trinia, I wouldn't be goin' anywhere near me own home or family."
Cressida frowns when asked for details on Trinia. She's clearly unhappy with her own response. "The guard," she says, clenching her fist. "Is dead. Much to my dismay. I should have liked very much to hear this confession myself. But his statement is vouched for by the queen's bodyguard, and I've no evidence that suggests foul play."
"I'm afraid I just don't have much information about the girl. No one had heard of her before her service to the crown, and not many have thought of her since. I confess that I have only the slightest details to guide you. Her last known address is 42 Moon Street. I've declared that information confidential. The address is an old tenement, several floors high and containing dozens of flats. It's directly connected to the Shingles. By reports, she is an attractive young woman, slender, with blonde hair and fair skin..." She trails off as she scans Li up and down. "Probably resembles you, Li, but I can't say for sure. She's a talented painter, to be sure. If she has family I haven't yet located them. More than likely she has friends, and if she's in the Shingles it could take days or weeks to locate her."
The Field Marshal's opening comment about the Queen unnerves Mouse, and for just a moment, she glances subtly around the room, as if nervous about eavesdroppers, great and small. As the others voice their concerns about Trinia and her whereabouts, Cressida's doubt begins to worm its way deeper into Mouse's mind...until she finally speaks out in a soft voice, barely audible.
Y' don'...y' don' actually think 'Er Maj'sty's tryin' t' stir folks up, do y'? I mean, y' got a poin' - nothin' could'a worked better t' start trouble if someone had been tryin'...but... Her voice drops, if possible, even lower in volume. Ain't sayin' somethin' like that 'bout Queen Ileosa treason? Not that I'm accusin' y' or nothin' - I mean, I'd never snitch, 'r - I mean - if she - Abashedly, she lapses into silence for a moment, a fierce red burning through the copper of her lean cheeks. We'll find 'er, Field Marshal, ma'am, an' get 'er t' y' safe.
Pietro looked at Li after Cressida's description and comment. "If that's the case, if Li looks like this artist and alleged poisoner then perhaps she should change how she looks, at least for the time being."
He turned to the others, "Given the time constraints on this mission, we don't want any undue complications and trying to explain to a hellknight patrol that Li is not the artist who poisoned the king sounds like a major hassle."
He looked at blonde girl, "I can certainly brew up something really quick that will change your hair color at least. How do you want to proceed?"
tag?
Pietro then announced, "Other than that, I think I'm ready to go to the Shingles."
A worried look appears on Li's face. "Ya ain't gonna turn me hair or me inta anythin' unnatural, will ya?"
tag Pietro
"An' if'n all tha blonde young women in Korvosa be a target then that's gonna be a problem. Is that tha only thing known about Trinia? An' what be tha guard's name that partners with Trinia?"
tag Cressida
A worried look appears on Li's face. "Ya ain't gonna turn me hair or me inta anythin' unnatural, will ya?"
Pietro was hurt, No, of course not. I can make your hair turn into any color you want. I can even give you something to change your tone of skin if you want."
Before she responded, he added, "I can make these changes temporary or permanent."
He turned to his new companions, "In fact, I do this sometimes when I go out at night and then wash the color right out of my hair. I can do that for any of you..."
"The guard's name was Grav Chrenoy. I don't suppose you knew him?"
A worried look appears on Li's face. "Ya ain't gonna turn me hair or me inta anythin' unnatural, will ya?"Pietro was hurt, No, of course not. I can make your hair turn into any color you want. I can even give you something to change your tone of skin if you want."
Before she responded, he added, "I can make these changes temporary or permanent."
He turned to his new companions, "In fact, I do this sometimes when I go out at night and then wash the color right out of my hair. I can do that for any of you..."
Seeing Pietro's face causes Li to stumble over an apology. "I meant nothin' by it. I just knew someone who tried what ya suggestin' an' his hair be goin' green...I don't be wantin' green hair. But mebbe we can darken it some. But only temporary like."
Li hasn't heard of the guard before but at least they now have another piece of information in order to find Trinia.
"If'n she bein' an artist then mebbe someone who be knowin' her, be knowin' Cal."
tag everyone
Seeing Pietro's face causes Li to stumble over an apology. "I meant nothin' by it. I just knew someone who tried what ya suggestin' an' his hair be goin' green...I don't be wantin' green hair. But mebbe we can darken it some. But only temporary like."
Pietro adopted the tone of a concerned doctor, "I understand. Think nothing of it. Give me a few minutes and we'll darken your hair some."
He smiled, "Just enough so you don't look like the blonde artist who poisoned the king."
____________
Ain't sayin' somethin' like that 'bout Queen Ileosa treason? Not that I'm accusin' y' or nothin' - I mean, I'd never snitch
"Yes, it would be. If anyone had suggested such a thing." Cressida gives everyone a serious, knowing look. "The Citadel has many eyes and ears. House Fordyce, less, so I believe it safe to speak openly. My personal feelings aside, Trinia yet lives, but I cannot say how long until she's found out. There are mobs going door to door, and it's only a matter of time. It could be within hours, if some neighbor gives her up. I recommend haste."
As Cressida talks on, Pietro and Li slip into the mudroom. A few minutes later he returns with someone else--Li's hair is now a rich shade of plum wine. Its dark purple highlights catch the morning sun in a flattering way.
___________
You set out from House Fordyce and the relatively peaceful streets around Endrin Square, following the familiar route down East High Street and across High Bridge. You leave the main roads and cut directly northwest up the hillside. As you move into Midland the atmosphere changes perceptibly and the tension in the air becomes palpable. Residents have their houses and shops closed up tight. You can hear the echoes of shouting and knocking from searching mobs in nearby streets.
As you near the exit of an alleyway, a band of hellknights is actively engaged in forcefully quelling a crowd or angry men. Platemail and halberds pitted against daggers and fists, the Hellknights are clearly winning. You duck back into the alley as a broken crate flies through the air, crashing into the wall near Garvid. Backtracking quickly, you seek an alternate route north, then west again. Here a mob fills the narrow street, unconstrained. They wield torches and various simple weapons, their shouts filling the air. "Where is she!? Toss her out for the dogs!". This forces you to head east, away from Moon Street, but you cut north again and wend your way back.
Pietro's prediction may have proved accurate, for there are no signs of young, blonde women. They seem to be hidden in fear of being mistaken for Trinia Sabor.
Overhead, The Shingles cast their shadow onto every street. Rope bridges and makeshift walkways connect the multitude of rooftops that comprise the aerial hovel. A tangle of jury-rigged catwalks, overhanging roofs, and lines of laundry create a multi-level mess of gutters, upper floors, and rooftops. It's dense enough to block the sunlight.
By some miracle, as you approach 42 Moon Street, the crowds thin. There are only a handful of passers-by. The echoes of the roaming mobs are still distant. The building is a three-story tenement, matching Cressida's description. It's merged tightly with the surrounding buildings, leaving barely enough room to fit a single person between them. Windows look directly into neighboring flats, leaving you to wonder how one could preserve one's privacy. The roof of the building is itself a part of the Shingles.
A front entryway stands open, leading into a large hallway with various doors and a winding narrow staircase in the back.
The tenements. The poor. The filth. This seemed like a normal 'night' for Pietro who was no stranger to the poorer parts of town.
He walked in the Shingles, all the time smiling weakly to Li and reassuring her that her purple hair looked fabulous. "The violet highlights really gives you a touch of sophistication."
Yaziyah brightens up as Li re-enters the room. "Oh, that is so lovely, dear. Can you do something with my hair too, doctor? Perhaps a red... to go with my cloak?" She gestures at her blood-red cloak draped over the back of a chair. "Or bone white, hmmm. What do you think?"
_________________
The Shingles were an old haunt of Yaziyah's; some of the poorer Shoanti lived there and she visited them from time to time. Although not this particular patch of them - she was more used to the Bridgefront tenements. Still, these places were the same everywhere. The lopsided, makeshift shacks, the lines of threadbare, patched laundry crisscrossing far above the streets, the people struggling to survive, dragging themselves from one day to another. Hopelessness, despair, misery, defiance, stubbornness - you could find all these and more.
As they reach their destination, Yaziyah doesn't linger in the streets. The open door is a bad sign and she fears they might be too late. Gesturing curtly to the others, she strides through the door into the hallway beyond.
Li is a bit shocked when she catches sight of herself after Pietro's doctoring of her hair. Not that she didn't like it but it was a huge change. She smiled, "At least it's not bein' green."
With Yaziyah's compliment upon reentering the room, Li's mind is put at ease. "Ya may not be able ta pick yer color, just ta warn ya. Although ta be fair, I only told Pietro 'not green.'"
He walked in the Shingles, all the time smiling weakly to Li and reassuring her that her purple hair looked fabulous. "The violet highlights really gives you a touch of sophistication."
"I be gettin' us'd ta it an' I think ya be right. Besides I should be thankin' ya fer yer fast thinkin'. There ain't be any blondes about an' if'n ya hadn't changed me hair then I may have run inta trouble already."
Yaziyah brightens up as Li re-enters the room. "Oh, that is so lovely, dear. Can you do something with my hair too, doctor? Perhaps a red... to go with my cloak?" She gestures at her blood-red cloak draped over the back of a chair. "Or bone white, hmmm. What do you think?"
Pietro nodded, "I sure can, ma'am and free of charge at that."
He saw Cressida's worried look, "But maybe we should find our blonde artist first. I promise to prepare a hair dye next time we have a break. It won't me very long."
He turned to Cal, "Maybe that's something we could offer to make some money. And even better, we could offer wood stains as well. You all think it up and I could probably make it happen."
Cal considers the oddly colored hair. "That's a bold move Pietro. It pleases me. Perhaps I'll have you do mine as well, but at a later date. If you wish I could possibly set up a shop for this kind of hair painting. I'm sure there will be a market for this, but among the affluent more than the poor, so perhaps a shop in the Heights? Or Midland? The business mind of the noble takes him into a bit of solitude as they travel so that he absentmindedly walks into the house directly behind Yazi.
Noticing that they've reached a destination at the moment, Cal snaps out of his reverie and looks around. "Are we here already?
The purple's nice, Li. Suits ya. It's clear the compliment is kindly meant...and also clear that Mouse is distracted by the surrounding chaos, walking ahead of the others with her shield constantly at the ready as she eyes the knots of rabble-rousers. Her Bridgefront room hadn't been luxurious...but it was practically a mansion compared to the Shingles ghettos. (And that was saying something, considering Mouse now had a real mansion to compare to.)
Following the directions she'd been given to Moon Street, she freezes slightly seeing the door sitting open. We ain't...we ain't too late, is we? Seeing Yazi carefully scanning the open door, Mouse peeks in as well, rushing to put herself ahead of the medicine woman as they stride together into the hallway.
Garvid guards the rear, keeping an eye out for any interested onlookers in the windows above and below. "If we're not now, we will be soon. There's no way to keep anything secret in this place. Can't even believe the whole thing took about a month to get out...", he says, carefully looking at the floor. "And do mind your feet. Place is a hell of a deathtrap for those who don't."
A hiss emanates from behind the staircase as a feral-looking kitty cat scurries out of the hallway and out the front door. Some manner of graffiti adorns the walls, though the work is delicate and thoughtful. A series of white daisies spring up beside one doorway. A wistful willow tree rests placidly over another. A flock of birds takes flight up the stairway. These paintings are newer, fresher, than the older, nonsensical scrawlings covering the walls behind them.
Muffled noises pass through the thin walls of the apartments on the first floor, and there's an audible Shh! from behind the door nearest you.
Noting the artwork and smiling a bit at the shushing, Cal winks at Garvid and Mouse as he carries on their conversation for a moment. "Yes, yes, speed is of the essence. How in the world are we to keep the artist safe from the unruly mob if we don't find her before the mob does?" He very obviously looks at all the flowers and birds painted in the room. He couldn't place the sound though, as he was a bit disoriented when they came in, but there was something he could do.
"You know," he paused for effect as he was certain they were being overheard, "As a follower of Shelyn, I have to go out of my way to protect art and artists. And as a noble, I have a vested interest in justice happening by discovering truth instead of letting crowds of people leap ahead of the law. If only we could find some clue to her whereabouts, we could bring her into our protection before she might get caught and lynched. With my influence and the magic we have access to, we could discover the real truth and not let our city be run by vicious hearsay."
Li admires the art as the others keep up their conversation. Mebbe this be tha work o' Trinia. When Cal's words become a little more pointed, Li concentrates on where they heard the 'shh' from and tries to hear if there is any unnatural movement inside the apartment.
After Cal calls out the doorway slowly opens. An old woman with an arched eyebrow and clouded eyes squints at you suspiciously. "The artist?" she calls quite loudly, as though she herself were hard of hearing. "How do you know her?" Her eyes shift quickly to the staircase.
Cal's bright eyes twinkle at the older lady. He faced her and spoke clearly so maybe she could read his lips if she didn't hear exactly what he said. "Only by reputation, I'm afraid. Unfortunately hearsay isn't everything. I'm sure there's a few people who'd like to spread rumors to keep the truth from being uncovered, and that's all I'm interested in."
He leaned forward and raised his eyebrows, putting his hands on his knees to meet her gaze more directly. "Now will you allow me to take her from this place before the mob finds us? I don't relish the thought of having to beat back those poor misguided souls to keep her safe. I'd rather get her a quick disguise and head for the safe house I've set up." With that he leaned his head a little over toward the stairwell, acknowledging that Trinia was likely still there.
The word 'disguise' made Pietro look at the former blonde beauty. "Yes, I'm sure a quick change of appearance is warranted. I could even tint her skin, at least what's visible, as we get her out of here."
He checked his surroundings for anything unusual, either the artist or the hellknights.
________
The old woman leans forward, squinting at Calcedon and Pietro. "Upstairs then, third floor, number 312... tell her rent's due."
On the way upstairs, you pass a handful of other tenants in the hallway. They give you wary, distrustful looks, but none cause any trouble. By their age and demeanor, you can tell they're mostly artists and university students.
On the top floor, you locate 312. The door is painted with a lake scene and a small mountain range beyond. The door is closed, but you notice it has no lock.
Garvid nods at the old woman, before reaching in his pocket and taking his pouch. The clanging of coins sounds muffed in the hallway, as he looks down and asks, "How much?", passing the coins to the old woman. He sighs, then passes along a couple of more golden sails. "And that's because you've never heard of a Trinia Sabor, or us. Right?", he smiles.
Walking up the stairs, he grunts. "Well, at least that place has some charm. Not a lot of it, but I can see how young folks might enjoy living here, rather than in some old shack in Old Korvosa.", he remarks, pointing towards a lovely sketch on the wall. "We're knocking?", he asks, before tapping on the door twice, loud, but not hasty.
There's no response to the knocking.
When there is no response to their knocking, Pietro slowly opens the door. "Maybe she's in trouble..."
Not wanting to give away her name, he calls out as he opens the door, "Hello... I'm here to pick up the painting..."
When Pietro pushes against the door it doesn't budge. It seems to be barricaded from the other side.
"Miss Artist? Please open the door, we mean you no harm. Give us a sign that you are safe and hale, else after the count of three we will break down the door to come to your assistance... and it would be a shame, it is such a lovely door." Yazi projects her voice through the door, trying to keep the noise level to a minimum. She then starts counting down from three... two... one, her gaze on Garvid, ready to motion the man into action should no response come from inside.
There's no response to Yazi's plea...
With no responses and no noise coming from the apartment, Li says, "Either she can't be answerin' or she be too afraid. Best is if'n we open tha door an' see how best ta help her."
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Wait, Mouse hisses softly. That old lady told us what t' say... Raising her hand, she tries one more knock. Your landlady sen' us - she said y'r rent's come due.
Still, only silence...
Huh, Mouse huffs softly. Thought it'd be some kind o' code word or somethin', t' let 'er know i's safe t' open the door. Well, nothin' f'r it, then... Suddenly, she twists to the side and rams the door with all the force she can muster, trying to dislodge whatever block's the door's opening.
Huh, Mouse huffs softly. Thought it'd be some kind o' code word or somethin', t' let 'er know i's safe t' open the door. Well, nothin' f'r it, then... Suddenly, she twists to the side and rams the door with all the force she can muster, trying to dislodge whatever block's the door's opening.
The doctor in Pietro quickly went to the girl, "Are you OK? You're going to hurt yourself doing that again."
This's harder th'n th' stories make it out... Rubbing her shoulder to mitigate the tingling of the blow, she waves off Dr. Bartori's help. Stronger 'n I look - it jus' don' wanna budge. But it will. Disregarding the doctor's warning, she rams the door again - and again. C'mon...
"Huh. That does remind me about those special cuts...", Garvid grins, patting Mouse on the shoulder. "Clever girl. Now let's try, together."
He nods at Mouse. "On three. One. Two. Three." At the signal, he crashes his shoulder into the door.
Garvid steps away from the shattered door, sighing. "I guess it's true all art is only appreciated once it's gone...", he says, tossing away a splinter of what was previously a lake. "I'm sure that she'd make a better one, if she survives..." He takes a deep breath, preparing to push away the barricade on the other side.
One...Two...
Mouse slams her shoulder hard against the door. There is a loud noise and the sound of heavy objects falling over, but the door jams. Another push by both Mouse and Garvid sends the door crashing open about one-third of the way and a pile of hastily-assembled dining chairs tumbling to the side, blocking the door from opening fully. Assembling these chairs was an impressive feat of engineering, given the tiny size of the apartment.
This one-room flat combines all the amenities of a bedroom, a kitchen, and a painter’s studio into one fifteen-foot-square space, leaving little room for much else. A stack of cheese and bread sits on the counter next to several full waterskins, while the easel in the opposite corner holds a half-completed painting of an imp and a pseudodragon fighting atop a church steeple. A single window is open and looks out over the tangled rooftops of the Shingles, while just under it, a woman sleeps in a curled-up position on a low bed...
The way she lays utterly still despite the racket is alarming, and at first you may worry that she's dead, but after only a few moments the woman begins to fade. Indeed, it quickly becomes apparent that the sleeping figure was an illusion! This revelation is cut short at the sound of a hissing cat and a muffled curse coming just outside the window! You all cram yourselves around it just in time to see a pretty young blond woman attempting to stealthily maneuver across the rooftop! She jerks around at the noise, cursing yet again, but then abandons all atempts at stealth. She breaks into a full run and flees at top speed into the cluttered rooftop jungle of the Shingles! You scramble over each other in an attempt to reach the roof through the window!
At the start of the chase, each PC and Trinia makes an Initiative check to determine the order in which they move. When a character moves, he decides if he wants to attempt to move one, two, or three cards. A character can move one card as a move-equivalent action (scrambling under laundry lines and across open rooftops) automatically, or he can attempt to move two or three cards in his turn by taking dangerous shortcuts as a full-round action (leaping from one rooftop to the next, clambering up a drainpipe, swinging along a line, or balancing along a narrow walkway, for example). If a character wants to move two cards, he must select one of the two skill checks from the card he starts his turn on to make in order to move two cards. If a character wants to move three cards, he must make both of the current card’s skill checks to progress. If a character fails any of these checks by 5 or less, he only moves one card forward. If a character fails any of these checks by more than 5, he cannot move at all that turn, and if he fails two checks by more than 5, he falls 1d4×10 feet to the street below, taking the appropriate amount of falling damage.
A fallen character has two choices—he can either make a DC 15 Climb check on his turn to return to the card from which he fell, or he can wind his way through alleys and over fences and through mobs to continue the chase by making a DC 15 Strength or Dexterity check (his choice) to move one card—a fallen character cannot choose to attempt to move two or three cards until he climbs back up into the Shingles.
A character can also choose to make a ranged attack or cast a spell during his turn. If the action is a standard or move-equivalent action, he can still chose to move forward one card. If the action is a full-round action, he can’t move at all. For purposes of determining range, it’s easiest to assume that each card represents a distance of 30 feet. Although the Shingles could provide plenty of cover, Trinia herself is too panicked to look for cover or hide, so you don’t need to worry about that during ranged combat here.
While a character’s speed doesn’t directly affect how far he moves during the Shingle chase, it does affect how quickly he navigates obstacles. For each 10 feet slower than speed 30 a character moves, he suffers a cumulative –2 penalty on any skill check made to navigate these obstacles. Likewise, for every 10 feet faster than speed 30 he moves, he gains a +2 bonus on these checks.
---Round 1---
Mouse
Trinia
Garvid
Li
Yaziyah
Calcedon
Pietro