Li calmly loads another bolt into her crossbow. "I got this, Garvid." She aims at the sleeping gator and takes her shot.
Unsure if her bolt had done the job, Li loads another one just in case the gator comes to life and attacks.
Li was expecting to feel more than she did at Lamm's death. It's not that she expected to be happy but she thought there would be some sense of relief. Instead she feels a little lost since she had been so focused on her revenge and now Lamm was dead.
When Calcedon mentions the children, Li perks up because she once again has something to focus on. "I'll help ya in a minut' but I need ta make sure Lamm be dead."
Garvid leans on a rafter, staring at the broken body in the water. Didn't go as I expected, but at least he's gone... And it even looks like there is some hope for the guttershites as well... He sits down as the crocodile's mercy killed. He takes his halberd in his hands, staring at the hilt. Wonder who was the one that struck the final blow... never sat right with me, regardless who was the one who bit it. He spits down in the murky waters, eyes not seeing anything as he's lost in his thoughts.
He suddently stands up, clearing his throat. "Well... I'd better get down before I'm stuck here...", he mentions flatly, as he makes his way down to the rotting planks. He rubs his hands until the spider hairs go back. "Creepy..." Shouldering his halberd, he looks at the rest, already tending to the children and the loot, as he makes his way to Mouse.
"You feeling alright, kid?", he asks, putting his hand on her shoulder, staring blankly at the distance. "Helluva thing, killing a man. Stays with you for the rest of your life.", he grunts in a melancholic voice. "I remember the first time it happened...", he starts talking, before realising that the mood is dark enough as it is, at least for him. "Anyway, best treatment I found for both heartbreak and melancholy is a good, cold glass of beer. And maybe several more after it. I'm sure whatever will find here will pay for it.", he mentions with the shadow of a smile on his face. "I'd avoid staying here for longer than we need to. Zellara would probably be... glad to hear the news."
Mouse recoils slightly from the hand on her shoulder; it's clear she's unused to contact that isn't violent. But realizing it's the guardsman's hand, she relaxes again - if only slightly. He'd'a done the same t' me. Did do the same t' me, or tried. That boy was in in here before...we was friends, once. 'Til Gaedren sent 'im t' kill me, for the crime o' thinkin' I c'd have a life o' my own. Pulling her tunic's collar to the side, she exposes a long knife scar, just over her heart. Jus' repayin' 'im 'is own coin.
Despite her bravado, it's clear she still struggles with the death, though; while she digs through the piles, her eyes can't help but stray to the shoreline below, where Li starts to heave the broken body into the water. Once the grisly task is done, she lies down on the damp planks, hooking her feet between two planks and stretching her arm over the causeway's edge to haul Li back up.
Li drops down to the muddy river bank, keeping her senses sharpened for potential ambushes. Part of her didn't really believe that Lamm was dead. She contemplates putting another bolt in his body but settles on a few swift kicks instead. When he still doesn't move, she cautiously approaches to feel for a pulse. Confirming he is truly dead, the rogue thoroughly searches his body for everything useful. Once she's finished, she heaves his body into the water and watches it slowly slip below the surface.
Seeing Mouse reaching down to give her a lift up, Li gratefully takes the help.
Jamros chuckled humorlessly while he listened to his compatriots conversations, noisily retrieving Glenda from the rotten floorboards and fastening her on his back. He then proceeded to stroll purposefully throught the room, turning a certain brooch over in his hands as he searched for anything worthwhile. “Suppose it's only fair I do unto you as you did unto me, wouldn't you agree Lamm?” he said to himself.
In the moments following Lamm’s death, an unexpected calm washes over the room as each of the party struggles to comprehend the consequences of their acts.
Mouse begins to carefully sift through the piles and piles of seeming trash--Lamm’s legacy.
Calcedon and Yaziyah carefully make their way along the underpier, bound for the streets above.
Li’s shoots the alligator through the skull. She eases herself down onto the rocky shore of the Jeggare to reach Lamm’s lifeless body. Removing his valuables, she performs his watery obsequies and pushes him into the river. Cast your bread upon the waters, for you will find it after many days.
A keyring
Potion of cure light wounds (DC 16 to identify)
Crossbow bolts (18)
Mwk studded leather
Mwk light crossbow
Mwk short sword
Garvid remains among the rafters, seemingly reluctant to return to the world below. Eventually, he joins Mouse in her search.
Jamros views the scene in uncharacteristic silence, a dark and grim expression on his face.
Calcedon’s striking melody carries through the foggy darkness. Slowly, lonely silhouettes take shape among the mist--the shadows of emaciated men and women, a hunch-backed fishwife, her form impossibly twisted, and others of the forgotten class--the undergrowth of Korvosa. And there are children. First one, then another, return from their hiding places near the fishery. Of course they remained--where else would they go? They approach with faces full of fear, curiosity, and wonderment at the beauty of a sound they perhaps have never heard in all their wretched lives.
Yet while Calcedon and his music are strangers to them, there is something undeniably familiar and welcoming about Yaziyah. The smallest among them, a boy who cannot be more than four or five, slowly approaches. At her question, he shakes his head shyly, but smiles as her story begins. It doesn’t take long for a handful of his fellow orphans to join.
But something is wrong. There is a strange smell in the air. Is it smoke? Far the west, the pale glow of sunrise begins to illuminate the skyline. But wait. Why should the sun appear so late at night, and on the wrong side of the sky? Upon this realization, you begin to notice other sounds in the distance, just beyond the line of fog. Shouts begin to ring out. Bells begin to sound in alarm. There is panic on the streets.
___________________________
Mouse lingers some over the old books in the heap; tatty and water-stained though they are, the words intrigue her. A study of the Bo- Bo-tan-ick-ul... she begins, trying to sound out the unfamiliar words on the cover and misplacing the stressed syllable. She gathers up a small stack and shuffles them into her huge backpack; they'll be for readin' later, once we seen Miss Zellara.
Her attention next turns to what must have been Gaedren's bedroom; she gives the pile of dirty dishes a look, but recognizes the wine-stained goblets as nothing but tin. An' I bet he'd'a told us 'twas silver, an' not a one o' us would'a said nothin' different. Lamm had spent her entire childhood regaling her with stories of the riches she could have, if she only obeyed him; seeing the garbage the man called "treasure" was almost a disturbing experience, though she'd suspected as much.
The strongbox draws her attention; looking it over, she tests the rusted latch to find it locked. Li! There's a locked box in 'ere - y'find any keys on 'im? Prob'ly old ones, mebbe rusted a bit. Setting the box aside for now, she picks up the hatbox and opens the lid; the flies didn't look promising, but maybe that was just because of some old wine spilled on whatever was inside. May be it'll clean up ok.
Li! There's a locked box in 'ere - y'find any keys on 'im? Prob'ly old ones, mebbe rusted a bit.
Li moves over to the lockbox. "I did find keys on him. Let's see what Lamm be tryin' ta hide." She pulls the ring of keys out of her belt pouch but remembers how mistrustful Lamm had been so before trying any keys in the lock, Li checks for traps.
Li is fairly certain that the strongbox is safe to open and so she starts trying keys in the lock.
First, you notice the smell. It’s unpleasant, even by West Dock standards. The hatbox actually contains something shocking--Zellara’s severed head, poorly preserved and decorated with unsightly makeup in a crude attempt to giver her sagging flesh the semblance of life. With this degree of decomposition, she must have been dead for weeks. Underneath her head is a smaller wooden box.
A narrow teak cigar case inlaid with tiny bits of jade.
A silver locket on a delicate chain, bearing the crest of House Fordyce (K(nobility) DC 12). Inside is a picture of a baby girl.
A 2-pound gold ingot bearing the Cheliax coat of arms.
A miniature gold crown.
A fist-sized crimshaw carving of a kraken with garnets for eyes.
A silver ring worth 150gp bearing the inscription “For Emmah-the light in my nights.”
A highly realistic and highly scandalous ivory figurine of two entwined succubi.
A masterwork shuriken.
An adamantine arrowhead.
An abalone-shell holy symbol of shelyn.
A tiny glass tube containing an oil of keen edge (Spellcraft DC 20)
An obsidian wand of magic missile (23 charges) (Spellcraft DC 16)
A crystalline vial containing a dose of silversheen
A bejeweled brooch with a broken clasp.
It is obvious that the most valuable object in the entire collection is the bejeweled brooch. This circular gold brooch depicts a pseudodragon and an imp coiled around each other in an almost yin-yang pattern. The pseudodragon’s eye is an amethyst while the imp’s eye is an emerald.
Knowledge (nobility) or Knowledge (local) DC 15: The brooch belongs to none other than Queen Ileosa Arabasti herself!
rolling twice and taking better result
Loot table updated! Sort of. I’ll finish filling it in later.
Mouse reaches for the hatbox atop the dresser, lifts the lid - and immediately lets out a shriek, filling the room with a sound of primal fear. The box flies from her hands and lands on the floor with a clatter, and it immediately becomes clear what's prompted her reaction.
For lying on the floor of Lamm's bedroom is the severed head of the group's leader and benefactor, the harrower Zellara, the flesh sagging with weeks of decomposition that the poor-quality preservation and grotesque death-mask makeup can't disguise.
Tha's...tha's... she gibbers, staring at the macabre token, a look of horror and confusion twisting her plain features. But she - she's...
Nodding at the help from Yazi, Calcedon beamed at the children as the came from their hiding places. This was going well, he thought to himself, until he saw the glow on the horizon. That has to be fire. And there's starting to be shouting in the streets. Things were not good in the city. Whispering in the older Shoanti's ear, he kept his face from getting too alarmed while still sounding as urgent as he could. "My house has walls around it. We'd best round up the kids and get them there as soon as we can for safety. I'll get the others."
Cal hopped inside, hollering musically letting his baritone voice fill the quiet space inside. "It's time to get going. There's a bit of a riot brewing out there, and I'd like for us to get inside someplace safe. My house is good for that, and I'd like help getting these kids there before it gets too late. Bring what you've found and we'll deal with it when we get there."
"As you say, as you say." Yaziyah nods at Calcedon's words and starts rounding up the children. Her singing voice is quite terrible, but she keeps them distracted with stories as she organizes them into pairs, instructing them to hold hands with each other and not let go. The older children she places at the front and at the back of the group, sheltering the youngest ones in the middle. "Why, this will be a field trip just like the ones I do with my nieces and nephews! They get a sweet if they know the answer to the riddles and questions I ask them. Let's see if you do as well! Who can name me all the districts of Korvosa? Extra sweet if you can do so in the order in which they were built!" She smiles and laughs as she chatters, trying to ease their fear and mistrust.
Cal hopped inside, hollering musically letting his baritone voice fill the quiet space inside. "It's time to get going. There's a bit of a riot brewing out there, and I'd like for us to get inside someplace safe. My house is good for that, and I'd like help getting these kids there before it gets too late. Bring what you've found and we'll deal with it when we get there."
Li doesn't have to be told twice. Years of being told to scatter at the first sign of danger had trained her to react quickly. Scooping up the items in the strongbox, Li puts the larger items in her bag and smaller items in her belt pouch. She takes extra care of the ring. Grabbing Lamm's crossbow and bolts, she says, "Someone better grab tha sword an' armor if ya can. They can always be sold if no one wants 'em." Yelling back at Calcedon she says, "We're comin'!"
Being preoccupied with the strongbox causes Li to miss what Mouse had found. When the brawler seems rooted to the floor and doesn't move at Calcedon's warning, Li grabs her arm by the elbow and gently tugs. "We gotta go."
“My my, isn't this a surprise.” Jamros said, thankful to have something interesting to occupy his thoughts. He promptly retrieved the discarded box, intending to remove the horrid sight from the more squeamish among them. “Either our benefactor isn't who we thought she was or….” He stopped, noticing for the first time the wooden case laying within the box. “What have we here?” he said as he opened the box.
Cal hopped inside, hollering musically letting his baritone voice fill the quiet space inside. "It's time to get going. There's a bit of a riot brewing out there, and I'd like for us to get inside someplace safe. My house is good for that, and I'd like help getting these kids there before it gets too late. Bring what you've found and we'll deal with it when we get there."
“Seems we weren't the only ones out for blood this night. Do you know what caused the riot?” Jamros said with a sigh.
Garvid looks away from the river as he hears the commotion, approaching the rest. Upon seeing the inside of the chest, his mouth opens. Is that... her?
He stares blankly at the head, looking around. "Well, s&$!.", he mutters after a while. "Grab it. We're going to show... her... the head, and ask some questions, politely.", he relays, grabbing as much as he could carry. Looting... What the hell am I doing..., he thinks as he lifts the chest and carries it.
"Never thought you'd get much riots in this quarter...", he grunts on the way. "I'd want to know what riled them up...", he mutters, muscles on his arms straining under the weight of the chest. It'd be hell to explain what the hell happened if we get stopped by the guard. Not that they'd come here if they can't help it...
Still half-paralyzed with shock, Mouse shuffles into action at Li's tug on her arm, helping to gather up everything of value and piling what she can into her bag to make carrying easier. Taking up the hatbox (wrapped in two layers of dirty canvas), she makes her way up and onto the street, subconsciously putting herself at the head of the knot of children with the box in one hand and her skull shield in the other.
Her mind is a jumble of questions so thick and tight that she can barely think anything at all as she follows Calcedon's directions. Someplace safe...sort it out there...'e was tortured...an' she's...she's...an' riotin'? Finally, the confusion becomes too much to bear, and her mind simply locks all the hard questions away. Instinct takes charge - she darts through the streets, acting as a lookout for the group, watching for even the slightest sign of movement along the path ahead and keeping her shield warily at the ready.
Going to the room with the hole in the floor, he lowered his voice to a more conversational level. "It seems there's a fire as well, over near the castle. If I had to guess, I'd guess some political unrest. Someone's trying to shake things up. Best thing is, we get off the streets. Take your time on the boardwalk, we should stay ahead of the trouble once we get to my place, it's in the opposite direction."
The bard went along behind the former Lamm, alternately encouraging the children and directing Mouse to where he lived. "We're not terribly far, but I live on the East Bank. You can almost see it from here. It's just that we have to go the long way round."
After he feels she knows the general location of where she's going, he pulls his violin back to his chin and begins to play again, to keep the children close and motivated the melody simple and lively, bringing hope in the midst of despair. He skipped around, using his bardic magic to fill the sound and to repeat certain things he was playing as he played over them. The song was common and popular, a song of a father singing to his children, and it was especially poignant for the young Fordyce, as his heart drifted toward the child he played for almost every day.
Five orphans in total gather up with Yaziyah, the remainder scurrying off after the violence or due to the growing unrest. She speaks reassuringly, trying to calm everyone's nerves.
The youngest orphan begins to cry. The others shush him harshly. "Shut it, Toadie! Yer gun' get us killed!"
As you exit the fishery and head out toward Warehouse Way, People are stepping out of pubs and homes, looking toward the west, toward the rising sound of chaos and the the fiery horizon.
It quickly becomes apparent that something terrible has happened.
Korvosa is in flames.
Smoke rises on the horizon. The frantic clang of alarm bells sing out in harmony with a multifarious cacophony of screams, the clash of steel on steel, moans, and even the periodic detonation of arcane power.
A wing of Sable Company griffon riders swoops overhead, angling toward Castle Korvosa at a breakneck pace. One of the badly wounded mounts rains blood down on the street all around you before it succumbs and crashes headlong into a statue, taking its rider and itself to a bone-crunching demise. the others in the flight do not even pause to check on their fallen ally.
"Toadie" screams in dismay. He is not the only one.
Amid the chaos, the voice of a Korvosan herald cuts through the din: "The king is dead! Long live the queen!" only to be shouted down by ragged cries of "Hang the queen!" and "The Ursurper Whore must die!"
Through an alleyway, you even spot a contingent of Hellknights clad in dark iron armor and horned helms pursuing a small gang of what appear to be looters.
All around you, people begin to band together into crowds begin to grow into mobs begin to riots begin to seize the city.
Korvosa has gone mad.
As the noise and the chaos increases, Mouse steels herself into action. Quickly tying the hatbox to her backpack by the knots in the canvas surrounding it, she bends over and picks up one of the smaller children, lying his head against her shoulder and patting his hair. We gotta hurry! she hisses in a low whisper. I never seen it so bad out here 'afore. Strangely, she finds that comforting and protecting the child - having something to do to help, really - helps to still her mind as well; with one more hug, she shifts his weight to her hip to keep her shield arm free and keeps moving, following Calcedon's directions and urging the others on.
I don' unnerstand, she murmurs to Yaziyah, trying to keep her voice low enough for the child on her shoulder to miss. Wha's happ'nin? Why's everythin' gone mad so sudden?
Li is on edge as they flee through the streets of Korvosa. The people flooding into the public areas seem to have malicious intent and the sooner they can get to Calcedon's the better. However being in a noble's house may just make them sitting ducks. Li hefts her bag that contains a large portion of what Lamm had had in his strongbox and makes the decision that she had the means to disappear if things got too dangerous. "This ain't normal for the city," she mumbles. She keeps her hands near her weapons in case someone targets their group while she brings up the rear.
In response to Mouse's question, Yaziyah shakes her head, eyes roaming the darkness for threats. "I think the king died and now the city is rioting. Let's get these kids somewhere safer, then we can see what's what." She shepherd the children along, trying to soothe their fear. "We should check on Zellara to tell her the news and see if there's anything she can help with."
The violence and the fire are almost... exhilarating. Nothing like riots and the city falling to pieces around you to make you feel alive. Her mind is sparking, sorting through options and questions. Are her people safe? Would the riots spill over the entire city? Will Korvosans turn on the Shoanti as an easy target to blame for all their woes? After all, it is what people do - instead of laying the blame at the feet of the truly guilty, the nobles and justices and priests sucking the life out of people, they turn on the weak, the ones who are different, the ones already oppressed.
Is there any place in the city safe? She thinks fleetingly of the grove to the east, sets the option aside for when things get truly bad. There are also the catacombs - if nothing else they are defensible and few people like venturing underground. She hisses at the others "Hurry, hurry!"
"Caesura!" said the bard, coming to a sudden halt. "We have to help Zellara! We're really close to her place, let's stop there before we head to mine."
He felt really bad that he forgot about the fortuneteller. She was probably fine, but she should know that Lamm was dead. They owed her that much. Shaking his head in self-loathing, he still hadn't fully understood why he came along on this trip. Sure, they were bad people, anyone could tell, but Zellara thought he had quite the certainty that he stood the most to gain from this, and he had meant to ask her, but got caught up in the moment.
You race through the twisting streets of West Dock, southbound toward High Bridge and what you hope is the safety of East Shore and the Fordyce estate. Toadie clings to Mouse, his bawling nearly drowned out by the roar of the city’s hysteria. Navigating through back alleys barely wide enough to squeeze through, you stop short as Calcedon realizes that you are near Zellara’s home: 3 Lancet Street.
But as he leads the group out into an intersection, a collection of proselytizing druids, screaming out in all directions at the top of their lungs, notices you. The boldest among them, a decrepit man with more moles than teeth and sickly, jaundiced skin, saunters forth and clamps Jamros by the wrist. ”Behold!” he gasps, his breath reeking, ”The Eye of Groetus has turned from the Boneyard to look upon Korvosa! And he has shown us your face, master gnome! In dreams, I have seen that your death now draws near! Now, during a time of great sickness and peril! Now, when Korvosa’s darkest hour ushers in a new age of writhing doom!”
When you return to Zellara's, you find the home abandoned, looking as if it has been empty for weeks. There is no sign of food, the macabre wall hangings, nor Zellara herself. The furniture is in pieces scattered throughout the small space.
At the mention of Zellara's house, Mouse had gone rigid, nearly dropping Toadie as she remembered the macabre token bouncing against her backpack. But she didn't want to show Calcedon what they'd found and risk scaring the kids...and after all, that was where they'd met her before, if they had...any chance of answers would start there.
As she approaches, Mouse's expression grows even more confused. Weren't...weren't this all ok before? Jus'...jus' earlier t'night? She sets Toadie down, ushering him to the back of the group, and enters carefully ahead of everyone else, scanning the wreckage of the formerly neat sitting room carefully.
'Ere...in 'ere, she hisses, motioning everyone inside. Once the children are safe in the sitting room, she kneels in front of them. A'right, jus'...stay 'ere, f'r a few minutes, while we see if our frien's still 'ere. All right? She digs out her slate and a piece of chalk, offering it to Toadie. Y' c'n draw on this while y' wait, mmk?
Then she waves everyone around into the kitchen where they'd eaten just a few short hours before. If anyone ain't seen it...there's somethin' y' should know. She unties the canvas parcel from her backpack, loosening the canvas and lifting the hatbox lid slightly to give those who hadn't seen it yet a clear view of its contents. We foun' this at Lamm's. So Miss Zellara's gotta 'ave a twin or somethin'...I dunno what, but somethin' more's happened, that she's not told us.
Li almost bolts when the group is accosted by the druids but decides that she is safer with the group than on her own with how the city is deteriorating.
She is unsure about taking the time to stop at Zellara's but goes along anyways. When she sees the state of the room, her first thought is that they are in the wrong place. "This can't be right. We must be in tha wrong pla..." Her voice dies off when she recognizes a piece of the chair that she had sat in so awkwardly earlier that evening. Li didn't know what was going on but she did know that she didn't like it. Immediately she became more suspicious of her surroundings. She searched through the rubble to try to find out what happened.
Garvid walks out into the chaos. What the Hells is going on?, he thinks as the sees the civil unrest threatening to tear the city apart. "Are you f++#ing kidding me?", he mutters, in disbelieve and anger, before realising how much the average age has went down, and sending a shameful smirk at Yazi. [ooc]Tag Yazi. "Sorry, kids. And...", he starts saying, before stopping himself mid-sentence. Let's not mention the severed head in front of the little bastards...
The birdbrains are out, that's fine. But who in their right minds let the Hellknights out? F%*#ing tin cans who think theft is punishable the same way as murder..., he thinks, eyeing the Hellknight patrol. S$!%, I need to re-enlist. S%!~, I need to go and talk to the Guard... He eyes the surrounding nervously, shifting the chest from shoulder to shoulder.
As he walks into Zellara's home, his mouth opens. "What the hell. That's not just happened overnight.", he says, studying the room. That's where I sat. And ate a bun. And I'm not even damn hungry. Damn mages and their b$!!#&~* trickery. He puts the chest down, and sits on it, eyeing Calcedon and Yazi. "Right. We need to talk.", he crosses his arms, and nods at Jamros too. "Leave the kids in here and come outside. You two, keep the kids safe and don't open the chest.", he nods at Mouse and Li. He jumps up from the chest, stretching his arms and grabs his halberd.
Opening the remnants of a door, he leads the others onto the chaotic street. "Here's the thing.", he starts speaking, before having to raise the weapon at a pair of scruff-looking looters staring at them. "Right. Zellara's dead. Her head is in the chest. And I'd like to know whatever the hell either of you can tell me about illusions, because I'm pretty sure most spells don't last for weeks, and they stop working when you kill the mage." He shakes his head. "You know what, don't tell me. That a f++*ing ghost or something haunted us and got us to clean up the streets isn't the biggest damn problem in here. The problem is the fact that the Queen somehow decided to unleash the f!#!ing Hellknights. And Hellknights means bad, bad business. It means people losing limbs for thefts and heads for throwing a f~@#ing vegetable. And that's before the mobs organise. Then it's mass graves for everyone who's upset with the Queen being on the throne. And that means about two thirds of the damn city. And that's me being generous." He takes a breath. "We need to stop the damn riots." He pauses and waits, staring at the fires. F*+% that. I'm not having the Hellknights running around in my town. I don't f%~~ing care who's ass is sitting on the throne, but it's sure as hell got to go.
As the druids approach and their leaders clutches at Jamros, Yaziyah extends her walking staff between them, its end pressing against the chest of the druid. "This is not the end of the world, you fool. Cease your doomsaying and leave our friend here alone. Begone, before I turn *my* eye upon you." She glares at the druids, applying a little more pressure on the stick.
She waves away Garvid's unspoken apology. "I'm sure they've heard far worse. It's not profanity we need to protect them from, but frenzied mobs and panicked authorities."
At Zellara's, she surveys the destruction mutely, head shaking in disbelief. A deep frown on her face, she follows Garvid outside. "Dead? This is very strange. I don't know what spell could do this, but if it was an illusion it was a damn strong one. Hells, I remember *tasting* that wine. Not the best I've had, mind you. But yes, you are right, this is a mystery for later." She takes a deep breath as she surveys the chaos around them, then barks a short, hollow laugh. "I never thought I would be on the side that's trying to stop a riot, not start one. But yes. The knights are bad news, everything about this is bad news. The problem is, once the mob gets started, it's damn impossible to stop it unless with butchery. And I'm not a butcher, no matter what else I might be. Have been." She glances at Garvid, eyebrow raised. "So do they teach you any gentler methods of controlling mobs in that city guard of yours? Or do we try to reason with the Queen?" She laughs again at the absurdity of the words.
Garvid chuckles. "I wonder if you mean gentler than the Hellknights, or gentler than me, truth be told." He sighs again, casting a glance at the town. "In either case, yes. We got better negotiators than me, but that's not a very high bar. Don't really see how we'd get an audience with the Queen, though."
He grunts unhappily. "Frankly, I can't see this being solved with violence." He takes a longer than usual look at Calcedon. "...I f!@&ing hate politicking...", he mutters. "Well, here's the thing. The Guard somewhat dislikes the Sable Company, but it's mostly us..., uh, the Guard somewhat feeling envy for them being show-offs, and they envying our dashing good looks and down-to-earth personalities." He grins. "It means The Guard thinks they're show-off pomps and they think we... the Guard are a bunch of slummers that can't find their ass with a map and a local guide."
He continues. "Regardless of all that, we both serve Korvosa, and not the ruler of Korvosa." He sulks around, kicking a piece of the loose cobblestone. "F#%!." Suddently, he grins. "Let's go in and tell the girls.", disappearing inside.
He sits on the chest and gestures to the table. "Alright, here's what I'm thinking we do about the current... defecation hurricane."
"Calcedon, you're a fairly upstanding citizen. Think you can contact someone who is generally well received both with the common folk and the nobles of the city? We may need his or her reputation to help us grant an audience." He shuffles. I have no idea if this is going to work, and I'm sure as hell I'd rather be kicking around asses instead of wasting time talking...
"We need to get that person, someone that the people can unite behind, get Marshall Kroft and Commandant Endrin and the seneschal to band together, for the city's sake. Get them to assure the Queen that the Guard and the Company can defend Korvosa by themselves, and that peace will be kept just fine without the Hellknights murdering people left and right. I'd add that they'd need to use tact, but f*&& if I'm going to be the one that suggests it." He grins. "So, if we're done here, let's go and get these kids somewhere safe." Safe-ish.
"So, if we're done here, let's go and get these kids somewhere safe."
But...is we done here? I mean...someone sent us out, an' someone fed us. I ain't no magic expert, but if that bread weren't real, ain't nothin' real. Seems like if we're here, we gotta figure out who that someone was... Mouse stands and readies her shield, steadying her bag on her back. If whoever it was could make them cards appear on us, they c'n follow us anywhere. I'd rather be done with it now. I'm goin' t' have a peek 'round.
Slowly, Mouse creeps through anywhere in the house she hasn't been yet, searching for some sign - any sign - of who their mysterious hostess had been.
As shocking as the deadness of their benefactor and organizer was, she was not there to deal with, so Cal pushed his questions of that to the back of his mind. Pretty much everything that had been said about it had already been said, and he didn't like to much repetition. The harsh words he heard about the hellknights were a bit alarmist, but he expected that from a guardsman. "I've no love for the hellknights, but I'll take them as opposed to fires and riots. The anarchy in this town will die down faster and less people will die and lose their property with them around. The problem lies in afterwards. The Order of the Nail will not wish to relinquish their hold in the city, but that is a problem for after things die down."
"If you want to see the Queen, we should probably just bring her this." He reached down and picked up her Brooch. "It's her seal that is on it. We should gain audience to her just by presenting this at the castle. I'd recommend not telling her how to run the city, any new ruler would take that as an insult. Best to earn our place. Hopefully she'll be grateful to receive back this bauble and be grateful enough to let us have further access. Unlike the rest of you, politics is my game. That must be the reason Zellara brought me in to this group. You're going to need that kind of advocate to really bring a change."
Holding the brooch up, the bard scanned the rest of the loot, and realizing the locket as his mother's, his eyes suddenly brimmed with moisture. He picked it up reverently with his other hand, holding his breath and opened it up. "What is this?" he whispered, not really toward any particular person.
Jamros grasps in surprise as the filthy man attempts to hold on to him. He twists around, ducking, and bolts to the left, just beyond his grasp. Whatever racial epithet the man slurs cannot compete with the sounds of screams, yells, and curses flowing from the adjacent crowds.
_____________
After initial reactions at the state of Zellara’s home, and upon the return of Garvid and Cal to the home’s interior, Jamros presents Zellara’s harrow deck from his pocket. ”Well, there is this little lovely. It’s been burning a hole in my pocket.”
Without prompting, the deck flies from his hand and skitters to a halt on the broken floor, the cards in perfect order. Miraculously, they begin to rapidly flip over of their own accord, as though worked by hands unseen. Images flash in succession as the familiar card faces are presented, then replaced by the subsequent drawing. The Juggler, The Rabbit Prince, The Avalanche... Finally, the deck stops flipping about two-thirds of the way through.
This is the card lying face-up before you.
A wind begins to stir, a gentle breeze that quickly escalates as loose objects begin to slide across the room. The orphans scream and run behind you, even as you struggle to remain standing. A flash of lightning.
And then, darkness.
The harrow deck begins to glow an unsettling green color. Above it, now partly illuminated in the fel green light, partly cloaked in shadow, floats an image of the middle-aged Varisian fortune-teller with whom you are now so familiar, head, neck, and all.
Zellara. Or what remains of her.
"I am sorry,” she whispers, her voice now oddly muffled and distorted, ”Sorry for not telling you the truth, or at least all of it. I told you that my deck was stolen from me by agents of Lamm, and that my boy Eran sought to return it to me. In response, they killed him. This much is true.” Her figure shifts and blurs, then refocuses.
”I told you that I used my cards to track him down. This is also true. What I did not tell you is that I was caught. I confronted Lamm and I spat in his face and, in return, he cut off my head. My body was thrown to the sharks." The ghost looks at all of you, the sorrow in her eyes almost overwhelming.
”In life, I lived by this deck. Now, in death, I have become it. I see as it sees; I hear as it hears. I can sense the world around it. My soul somehow linked itself to these cards. I think it is because I was supposed to find you all. I still have some of my magic from life...like appearing here before you. I can create illusions."
"When I died I...I saw beyond the veil. I saw Korvosa’s fate, or rather, one of her fates. Dark times are ahead, and I can't tell you what you should do, only that the fate of Korvosa, and all of her people, hinge on what your actions will be." Zellara’s image flickers in mid-air, then she points at you.
"You are all good people, people of stout courage and heart that have suffered because of Lamm in one way or the other. The threat facing us all right now is greater than you know, and I fear that there is more that I am unable to see. It's up to all of you to save this city, and the path will become clear in time, but only you can choose to walk it. Will you help me defend this city?"
Li backs up towards the door, a look of horror on her face. Part of her thinks she's losing her mind but considering the looks on everyone else's faces and the response of the children tells her that she isn't the only one seeing this. Every instinct screams at her to run and not look back but her feet remain rooted to the floor as her hand rests on the door handle.
...Will you help me defend this city?
To add to her feeling of insanity Li actually talks to the ghost before her by asking, "What can I possibly do to defend this city?" It was then that Li realizes that she doesn't know if she really wants an answer.
Mouse's look of horror echoes Li's - though there's more than a hint of wonder to it as well. One of the few books she owned was a collection of fairy tales, and she'd always devoured stories of the fantastic. She just...never thought she'd be in one of those stories.
To add to her feeling of insanity Li actually talks to the ghost before her by asking, "What can I possibly do to defend this city?" It was then that Li realizes that she doesn't know if she really wants an answer.
Li's r-right... Mouse ventured with trepidation. Y'...y' musta made some mistake when it come t' me. I ain't nothin' - just a Fronter empty. No family, no learnin'...what'm I s'posed t' do? I don't know nothin' bout nothin'...I ain't gonna do no good for no one...
But as she proclaims her unworthiness, a tiny voice echoes in the back of her mind in a single refrain...what if you did? She begins to realize how much she wants to do something - anything - to make things better. How desperately she wants to help. And looking at the faces around her, she realizes - maybe I finally got someone t' have my back...
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This is f@~!ing madness, it is..., Garvid shakes his head at the image of Zellara. "S#~~.", he mutters, staring at the image. Gathering his senses, he shakes his head. "You still don't get me believing in fate, Zellara. Ghosts exist, but fate is what you make of it.", he says, crossing his arms.
He shakes his head at Li and Mouse. "Oh, come on, chin the hell up. I've known you lot for less than a whole day, and I already saw you do more for the city than half it's supposed protectors.". He grunts unhappily. "What you can do for this city is give a s#&~." He chuckles. Give it everything, and live with people hating you for the way you did it, or the way you looked doing it."
"Y'...y' musta made some mistake when it come t' me. I ain't nothin' - just a Fronter empty. No family, no learnin'...what'm I s'posed t' do? I don't know nothin' bout nothin'...I ain't gonna do no good for no one..."
He stands up, bashing the halberd in the ground. "Stop selling yourself short, kid. You faced all your f+%+ing past in a single day and you didn't even take a step back." He looks at Yazi. "You fought for the betterment of a town that treats you and your people like garbage, and you did it with a wit and a smile." Nodding at Calcedon, he gestures towards the kids. "You took the step away from your fancy ass mansion and cushy life to see justice being done personally, and offered sanctuary for those who need it." He turns to Li. "You've had your chance to run away with the riches and the plunder, but you didn't. You stayed and offered your aid." He nods at Jamros. "You're not even from around here, and you still responded to the call of what's right."
Garvid sighs, looking around at the quieted room. "And me, I've sworn to take care of what's right for the people of Korvosa, rich, poor, human, halfling, elf. And I'll f*##ing do it, regardless of whether they call me a Chel, a Dancer or a jackboot, because I may not like the c&$!s, but I'm sure as hell willing to die to defend the place they call home." He spits. "So what we're going to do is take it day by day, hour by hour, week by week if it takes, but we're going to show everyone what we Korvosans are capable of." He leans on the halberd, his gaze drifting towards the nearly worn-out stamp in the metal. He nods at Calcedon. "Alright, Politico, we're going to see the queen." Looking at this sorry lot and where they come from, I'm actually thinking we may achieve something. Or die horribly on the gallows or on a Hellknight's glaive. It sure is good to see someone who gives a s~%*.
He turns toward Zellara. "And that's not because your fate told you that we can do it, fortune teller. It's because the moment people give a s@@@, they can do anything they want."
"You question your abilities, yes, and your motivations as well. I, too, have questioned many things since Eran's death. But this cannot be mere coincidence--that I should sense each of you, be drawn to you, find you, bind you together in your shared pain."
Images from the harrow deck begin to fade in and out of existence around Zellara's "body" as she speaks. First the Keep, then the Theater, the Midwife.
"Yes, you may doubt yourselves, your place and your purpose in this madness, but where there is doubt, there is faith, too. Given what you have seen, and what you know in your heart, can you place your faith in me? In each other?"
The Carnival, the Rabbit Prince, the Bear.
"And that's not because your fate told you that we can do it, fortune teller. It's because the moment people give a s@#~, they can do anything they want."
A semblance of the Avalanche card finally appears, then fades to nothing. The fortune-teller smiles.
"That you can do it, I have no doubt. I don't need fate to tell me that. After all, it only takes the smallest of pebbles to drive a raging avalanche."
As Zellara's ghost appears, the Shoanti woman tenses, breath coming harder and faster, hands groping at the many amulets and fetishes hanging from her belt. Finding one. Clenching. The undead are abomination, thus are the teachings of Pharasma, thus are the teachings of the Skoan-Quah. Yaziyah's usually composed manner frays and she fairly trembles with barely suppressed emotion. How did I not sense it? How did it fool me?
As Garvid gives his speech, she calms down a little, but her body is still rigid and spear-straight, her hands in fists over the amulet she holds against her chest. She takes a few deep breaths through her nose, then speaks. "I shall do this. Not because you ask, or because of your... visions. Because it is right. And once we are done, I shall come back here. And I shall put you to rest, ghost." She opens a hand; the amulet has dug red lines into her palm, the outline of a tiny key clearly visible. "I shall speak of your life and of your death. I shall unchain your spirit from this plane. I shall unlock the Spirit Gate for you and lead you through."
Cal hated to leave the pep talk to Garvid, but he was passionate and got the point across admirably. Leaving that to what it was, he addressed Zellara. "Admittedly, we wouldn't have worked with a ghost had we known. But, lying to us is not something that will make us trust you. It's best if you are put to rest and leave this to the living. Korvosa has had it's share of undead troubles, and it won't do your spirit well to stay. We'll bury your remains here, and we do what we must for this city."
He motioned to the others, keeping an eye on the ghost. Hopefully she wouldn't attack because they were doing what she wanted too, or at least what she said she wanted. "Come on, let's over to my house. There's a bath there, at least. We won't want to show up to court unwashed."
"You've had your chance to run away with the riches and the plunder, but you didn't. You stayed and offered your aid."
Li listens to Garvid's impassioned speech. She then gives him a half-hearted smile. "Tha night's still young and my doubt may win out in tha long run. But fer now ya have me support." Li warily eyes Zellara's ghost. "It may be best ta get goin' sooner than later and it be lookin' like Calcedon's home be our best option. Maybe a little quiet will help us make sense of what's happenin'."
"I shall speak of your life and of your death. I shall unchain your spirit from this plane. I shall unlock the Spirit Gate for you and lead you through."
"It's best if you are put to rest and leave this to the living. Korvosa has had it's share of undead troubles, and it won't do your spirit well to stay. We'll bury your remains here, and we do what we must for this city."
At Yazi’s words, a sigh escapes Zellara’s lips as her ghostly eyes turn up toward the heavens. The Big Sky materializes in the air behind her, float lazily through the air before seeming to evaporate through the very ceiling.
”I long to be released from this prison. To be with my boy again. He is waiting for me, I can feel it. When the blade swung down, and I knew that my life was at an end, I thought ‘At least I will be with Eran.’ Yet even this has been denied me.”
Her harrow deck rearranges itself and floats up from the floor, slowly gliding through the air and then hovering before Yaziyah. It still glows with its weird green light.
”I do not know what’s to become of me. For now, all I know is that I am joined with these cards. Take them, Death Speaker, let me guide you as I can. Let me use whatever power I have left to aid you in these trials ahead.” .
Yaziyah's features soften a bit and she hesitates only slightly before reaching out a hand to take the card deck. "Very well. Do you have other wishes? Kin who should know of your passing? A favourite place for your remains?"
Turning to the others, she lets go of the amulet and dusts her hands. "We can pass by the Grey on our way to the estate. Or if you don't want to, I can perform the burial at a later time."
She nods. "Very well. I shall take care of it once the children are safe, at the estate or someplace else." She turns to the others expectantly. "Is there anything else we wish to do here before we move on? It is dangerous to linger."
After her brief stammered reply, Mouse had simply stared as the exchange continued; the fear was still there, but as Zellara continued, her words kind and warm, it began to recede in the young girl's mind, replaced with a reverent awe. Even if she was a ghost, she didn't seem to mean the gathered any harm, and she'd had plenty of chance...
Finally, at Calcedon's and Yaziyah's reminders, Mouse snaps to, shaking her head slightly to clear her mind. Move on. Calcedon's. Yeah. 'M good, le's go. The kids were likely to be scared out of their minds, she knew; best to get them somewhere safe as soon as possible. And a bath did sound nice...good tubs were a scarcity in Bridgefront tenements, and good clean water just as uncommon. It was rare she was ever truly clean. An' I'll wanna be good an' tidy, t' see the Queen t'morrow...the Queen!
And just like that, a fidgety nervousness takes over Mouse's plain features. Her contact with the upper classes of Korvosa was limited - guiding coaches, lifting and carrying deliveries, unloading luggage from rough holds while the wealthy disembarked from gilded cabins. Once she'd even had a young nobleman set a dog on her, when she'd backed to a wall to let him pass and he thought she'd grabbed for his fob watch. (She had grabbed for it - it'd have been a tidy gift to bring back to Gaedren. But it didn't make the bite on her leg hurt any less.)
Calcedon was the first nobleman she'd ever had an actual conversation with, and even that hadn't been extensive at all - she hardly knew what to expect from people who lived a life so diametrically opposite to hers. Taking advantage of the bustle of departing the harrower's home, she leans in close to Calcedon, a timid, concerned expression knotting her eyebrows together. Mister Calcedon? Y' sure...y' sure I ain't gonna get in trouble bein' there? Th' Eas' Bank, I mean?
Zellara’s spectral form shimmers as she sadly shakes her head. ”Family, no. Friends, of course, but I could not bear to see them, or have them see what has become of me. Lamm is dead, my death avenged. My only worldly concerns, now, are my destructive visions of Korvosa. That is why I believe I remain. And why I seek to encourage you. As to my remains, I care not.”
”Remember,” she says, her form beginning to fade. ”I am one with these cards; whatever power I have left is tied up within them. Have a care for them, and when you have a need you may call on me for whatever assistance I may provide.”
Zellara’s form pops, like a giant bubble, and the green glow fades. The deck falls gently into Yaziyah’s open palm.
______________
Following Calcedon's lead, you gather Toadie and the others, leave Zellara's home, and head once more into the streets. Tension runs high throughout the city, and you catch more than a few nervous faces peering from behind their windows and boarded up doors. People run past you in all directions, but no one bothers a group of your size. You see any number of Korvosan guards, Sable Company Marines, and even the Order of the Nail clashing with rioters, chasing them down, or being run off by their greater numbers. A low pall of smoke, sweat, and fear can be seen, smelled, and felt.
Using alleyways and cross-cutting side streets, you avoid the largest groups. Headed south towards High Bridge, you leave West Dock, heading east on Guard Street (perhaps Citadel Volshyenek can provide sanctuary?), but find all access through that route cut off as a large mob appears to be pressing north from Eodred's Walk. You are forced to cut west and south, skirting the edges of Bromathan Street's administrative buildings, where the clashes seem even more intense. The children remain quiet and obedient through the trek, eyes wide for danger.
Nearing the northwestern edge of Eodred's Walk, you brush the edge of a mob howling curses such as "Death to the Whore Queen!" (this seems a common theme amongst the rioters) and worse as they ransack a number of trade shops. You round a corner to evade notice, only to come face-to-face with a mob of ten men wielding shovels, chair-legs, and lengths of iron pipe. They block the street, surrounding a beardless young nobleman. One of the mob, a labourer, fat and bald with greasy muttonchops framing his rotund face, jeers and addresses the young man in a booming voice. "Bet'cha nev'r work an 'onest day's wage in'yer life, eh Queen's Man?" He pokes the nobleman with his pipe. "M'brother 'ad 'is arm crushed by a barrel on th'docks when 'e was younger than you... never raised a mug o'ale with tha'wrist again. Wanna know what it feels like?"
