Korvosa, a city on the edge. Founded by Chelish colonists on land once possessed by Shoanti tribes, the city had grown and prospered, surviving many hardships, up to and including the fall of the Chelish empire.
Under the rule of Eodred Arabasti II, the Saffron King, or, as the lower classes often refer to him, the Stirge King, for his spendthrift ways, the city’s coffers are slowly being bled dry. Given the whispered rumors of the king's penchant for the younger flesh no one was surprised when, four years ago, after a scandalously short courtship, he finally wed a woman nearly a third his age. Although many were shocked when the King turned out his harem in favor of his new bride.
Queen Ileosa is a woman of breathtaking beauty, with red hair like the sunset, chaste alabaster skin, and features so fetching many claimed her mother must have been a nymph queen, as surely no mortal woman could give birth to a beauty such as she. Yet, despite that beauty, Queen Ileosa has managed a minor miracle in intervening years, she’s single-handedly manage to shift the dislike and disapproval away from King Eodred to herself, with her open disdain for Korvosa (a city she’s been heard to call “a backwater colonial village” more than once) and it's inhabitants.
For several months now, King Eodred has been showing signs of an ever-worsening illness, and his condition keeps declining despite all that the city's healers can do for him. For the king does, after all, occupy the Crimson Throne and few rulers have led the city for long, and fewer still have brought forth heirs to succeed them. Once again, the rumor mills whisper of the Saffron King becoming the next victim of the "Curse of the Crimson Throne".
Once again you've retired to your study to wait for your tutor, Lucien, to arrive. As you remove your spellbook from the locked desk drawer where you have hidden it, you notice something odd. A brightly colored Harrow card is protruding from the pages.
The Wanderer
Turning the card over you notice a handwritten note on the back side.
"I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
Once again you rise with the morning sun ready to continue your hunt for Gaedren Lamm. After getting dressed you grab your bow and quiver only to stop short as something odd catches your eye among the brightly colored fletchings. Reaching into the quiver you remove what can only be a Harrow card.
The Cricket
On the reverse side of the card is a note, written in a woman's hand
"I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
You spend the morning tracking down leads to Gaedren Lamm's whereabouts. As you skulk in an alleyway spying on a pair of juvenile pickpockets, hoping that they will lead you to Lamm, a stray breeze blows some of the city's detritus into the alcove you are standing in. Looking down you notice a brightly colored card resting on your foot.
The Peacock
Reaching down to pick up the card you notice writing on one side. Your eyes widen in shock as you realize the note is for you.
"I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
Looking up you curse yourself as, distracted by the card, the pair of thieves have slipped away
That morning, as you conduct a reading in hopes of gaining new insight on how to find Lamm, a strange surprise awaits you. As you draw the cards and lay them on the table you find that the last card you draw is not from your deck.
The Joke
Picking the card up you see someone has written a note on the back.
"I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
You sit silently, turning the card over and over, pondering how it came to be in your deck.
As you begin your day tending your garden your eyes are drawn to a sheaf of paper sticking up from out of the dirt. Drawing the paper from out of the ground you find it is a Harrow card.
The Midwife
Brushing the dirt from the card you see writing on one side. You cannot believe your eyes as you read.
"I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
The day passes uneventfully with no new leads as to Lamm's whereabouts. Frustrated, the evening finds you outside the address from the note.
Asking around you determine that the address in the note is the home and fortune telling shop of a Varisian woman named Zellara
As you arrive you find the front door unlocked. Within, a simple hall opens up into a chamber obviously intended to receive visitors. The cozy chamber is filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice. The haze comes from several sticks of incense smouldering in wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly-winged elves. The smoke itself seems to soften edges and gives the room a dream-like feel. The walls are draped with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black-skulled beast juggling men’s hearts, another showing a pair of angels dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on the far wall depicts a tall hooded figure shrouded in mist, a flaming sword held in a skeletal hand. Several brightly-colored rugs cover the floor, but the room’s only furnishings are a wooden table covered by a bright red throw cloth and several elegant tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue cloth sits on the table, next to which a piece of parchment can be found, held by a small stone paperweight. Written on the paper is yet another note.
"Thank you for coming. I had to step out for a bit, but shall return shortly. Please, have a seat while you wait. The basket under the table contains bread and drink for you."
Ceril isn't happy. His situation is terrible, his chances with the Sable Company are terrible, and he hit his foot on the dresser before leaving his apartment. Not a good start to any hunt.
He gave a brief wave as each newcomer arrived, choosing to opt for silence rather than conversation. He wasn't sure if he could trust these people yet. He knew Gaedren Lam dealt with thugs, drugs and all sorts of illegal matters. He didn't want to associate with their kind for any long period of time.
Then again....
Cecil sighed, the strain of what he had planned to do to Lamm weighing on him. What good Korvosafn citizen would plot murder? It had been weeks and still he was pondering.
Pausing outside, Arianna scans the façade of the building placing it within the context of the surrounding area and structures. Nodding to the coachman, she had hired a summoned service rather than arrive in the family coach adorned with the Surtova crest, she waits until the sound of hooves on cobblestones has faded altogether into the distant streets of Korvosa.
Wary of being seen away from her brother's villa, alone, Arianna pulls the hood of the dark cloak higher over her head and smooths the skirts of her sombre, plain dress. Her signet ring, safely hidden from view under one of her soft leather gloves, was the only obvious sign of her membership to a noble house of the city. Giving the street one more glance in either direction, Arianna walks the last few steps to the door of the house. Her hands move in swift, sharp gestures within the opening of her cloak, as she whispers, “Revelata facie procul magicae."
A slight smile curves her lips as she thinks about her older brother and the elaborate caution and preparation that was characteristic of his attention to detail and planning. More and more like him each day... This is what he would do. Search for Lamm and bring him to justice... Satisfied, she reaches under her cloak and lowers a small, black cat onto the step beside her where it sits obediently watching as she pushes the door open.
Wrinkling her nose at the smell of the incense, and feeling vaguely uncomfortable by the hypnagogic effect it is having on her, Arianna starts when she sees the room is already occupied by a single occupant. She waves in reply and pulls her hood from her head, but looks sheepishly as she catches herself fidgeting with her hair. Fixing a polite smile on the stranger, she points to a chair in the corner and her companion, the black cat, pads across the room and with a small leap sits on the vacant cushion.
She pauses to read the note and takes the opportunity to survey the room, and the man. Still smiling, she sits and with a nod of her head, says, "I am Arianna," and offers her hand, awkwardly, over the basket on the table.
The darkly clad man stalked through the alleyways and rooftops making his way to the address given. Crouching on a rooftop across from the building the information led to, The man sat quietly and watched the comings and goings in the area, tracking movements in case it was a trap.
Ceril looks at the hand offered, but does not move to take it.
"You can put that down," he informs her, in a gruff tone. "I'm not here to make friends."
Arianna wavers for a moment, though she politely withdraws her hand and starts to survey the room again. A slight colour in her cheeks.
"I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well..."
"You are here to discuss Gaedren Lamm as well?", Arianna says after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. She watches the stranger as she mentions the monster who killed her sister.
From across the room, the black cat regards the man sitting opposite his mistress coldly and growls.
Arriving somewhat after the first two curious visitors, a well-tended man in a dark green cloak pauses at the door, then lets himself in. He seems to be none too suspicious, rather making his entrance without trepidation; like many Varisians he has an olive complexion and an easy smile, but he also sports a well-trimmed beard and mustache. He glances once over his shoulder as he steps inside the door, then makes his way into the simple chamber beyond.
At the sight of two other visitors he ducks his head and says, "Hello -- more guests of Madame Zellara, I presume?" He takes in the note on the table and gives a wry smile, then adds, "Seems that she hasn't lost her touch for the dramatic, having us wait here and get to know one another until she can swoop in and make her introduction. I'm Orson."
It isn't hard to see Ceril physically tense at the mention of Lamm's name.
He nodded.
"Lamm will get what's coming to him."
He motions to the bow strapped to his back.
"My only concern is if my so called..."associates"....can actually be any use."
He eyes the first newcomer, unimpressed. Fine features and clean skin probably meant she wasn't a vagabond at least. Probably and escort. Good for bait at least.
He didn't return the second-comer's greeting. This one was much to cheerful to be at this meeting.
Ceril sighed.
This was going to be a long night if it didn't prove to be a useless one first.
"Depends on whether you are talking about shooting someone with that in the middle of a crowded street during the day, or orchestrating the downfall of a criminal organization and dismantling its entrenched power base in order to salve the poison that it spreads through the city's society," Orson says, deadpan, as he rummages through the basket and sniffs at the proffered beverage before pouring some for himself.
"Something to drink?" he says as he offers to pour for the others.
Noting the stranger's reaction to Lamm's name, Arianna is thankful for the arrival of the Varisian gentleman and turns to offer her hand to him. "Yes, please. I am Arianna. You know Madame Zellara?" She smiles warmly. "This is?", she says as she glances Ceril.
From his seat across the room, the black cat regards the newcomer intently before continuing to stare at the stranger sitting opposite his mistress.
Atherton watched the parade of what could only be described as fledgling adventurers enter the building. As dusk drew, he dropped down the building and entered, keeping his hood up and flinging a single card from a harrow deck onto the table. He then said simply in a low and menacing voice "Tell me where he is."
Arianna leans forward to glance at the harrow card, and nods. "I believe we will find out soon enough," she says smiling.
"Do I look like a Madam Zellara?" he asks sarcastically.
He looks back to Arianna, probably hoping for an answer for his name.
"Ceril." he relents, answering Arianna's question. His name wasn't worth much these days. "Ceril Surefoot."
He thought to himself. Your poor luck is making you hostile to a young woman and a happy man. Get over it Ceril.
Deciding that it would be better to know who he was working with, Ceril decided to make an effort to be amicable to his cohorts.
"My apologies. My parents taught me manners but it seems I've forgotten with my string of bad fortune."
He declines the offer for a drink, instead pulling his own water-skin from his bag.
"Pleasure to meet you Ceril," Arianna replies and smiles appreciatively at his effort. Across the room, the black cat jumps down and crosses the room to sit on his mistress's lap.
Orson inclines his head to Ceril, then pours a drink for Arianna and passes it to her. He accepts her hand and gives a faint incline -- not exactly a deep bow, but not nearly so forward as to try to kiss the hand of a complete stranger. His hands are somewhat rough, like those of a man close to the earth. As he leans nearby, she can tell that he smells faintly of mint.
"Madam Zellara indicated that there would be several people with a shared agenda. It sounds that this is related to Lamm. A shared adversary, perhaps?" he says with a raised eyebrow.
Accepting the drink with one hand, Arianna picks up the harrow card that Atherton tossed onto the table. The Peacock. She returns it to its original place. "When you entered Orson, it sounded like you knew Madame Zellara personally; or were familiar with her... theatrics. Have you met her before?" She sets the glass in front of her and looks over at Orson.
"Yeah. what's your relation to our so-called benefactor?"
Orson sits and crosses his legs. He holds his mug casually as he says, "I don't know her personally, only by the general reputation of Varisian fortune-tellers. Given that everyone here seems to have a connection to Lamm and she has figured it out, she either has some actual divinatory skills or some excellent information-gathering networking, either of which could be quite useful to any of us."
"I presume we're all here because Madam Zellara left you notes?"
Ceril nodded.
And revealed his tarot card, the Cricket.
"I haven't had much luck tracking Lamm on my own, so I hope this lead is worth it."
Arianna nods, and places her harrow card on the table. The Wanderer.
Orson rummages around under his cloak and produces the Midwife.
Nicolai spends his afternoon tracking down leads about the mystery woman who left him the note only to find out that she is a Varisian fortune teller named Zellara, who runs a small shop out of her home which is the address on the card. With a small smile on his lips he thinks to himself "A Varisian fortune-teller, who would have thought? This city is lousy with them."
Arriving at the address he lets himself in only to find a small gathering of other people already there. Looking at Arianna he tosses his card, The Joke, on the table "Are you Madame Zellara, and if so what is the meaning of this little gathering?"
Arianna, tall with blond hair and light olive skin, is reminiscent of ancient Chelaxian nobility rather than the darker, dusky appearance of the local Varisians. She laughs, good naturedly, at Nicolai's question and says, "No, my name is Arianna and, like you good gentlemen, I have been summoned to meet with Madame Zellara as well. As Orson has already said, it appears we have a common foe. Gaedren Lamm!"
The black cat growls audibly at the mention of the name.
"Madame Zellara has yet to make her appearance."
Watching the proceedings without saying anything, Atherton says "I am here to stop Gaedren Lamm. Everything else is secondary at best."
"I believe we all share your desire to see Lamm... brought to justice. However, we need to wait for Madame Zellara and the information she maybe able to give us in our pursuit of such... justice," Arianna looks around the small room, the action mimicked by the feline in her lap, "I am beginning to wonder, how long we might have to wait for our host to arrive?"
Ceril joins the search.
As you begin to look around the front door opens and in walks a middle aged Varisian woman with long dark hair held in check by a scarf.
Zellara
As she enters she gives you a wan smile as she takes a seat at the small table. She indicates that you too should take a seat as well. As you take the remaining five chairs the woman produces a Harrow deck, whose backing is identical to the ones you received, and begins idly shuffling them, as if to relax her nerves. As she shuffles the cards, Nicolai you notice that her skill with the cards rivals your own. Once you have taken your seat she speaks in a soft but clear voice "Thank you for coming, my friends, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you. I have reason to remain hidden, you see—a terrible man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This is a man you know, for he has done something terrible to each of you as well. I speak, of course, of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched by his gift for avoiding reprisal. You see, a year ago, his thieves stole this, my Harrow deck, from me. It is important to me, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, and also my sole means of support. When pickpockets stole it, my son, Eran, tracked them down. The thieves were in the employ of Gaedren Lamm, and in reward for finding them, Gaedren murdered my son.
“I sought help from the Guard, but they turned me away. And so I asked around. I paid bribes. I consulted my Harrow deck for advice. And recently, I was rewarded—I found out where Gaedren dwells. He can be found in an old fishery north of here at Westpier 17, where he trains his abducted children to be pickpockets and counts his stolen treasures.
And now, I need your help. I cannot hope to face this man on my own, and the Guard moves so slowly that if I were to go to them, Gaedren would certainly know of their coming well in advance. Even if they did arrest him—what guarantee would I have he would be punished? This criminal has evaded the law for decades. But you know of these frustrations as well, for word on the street has it that Gaedren has wronged each of you, too. So there we are. It is time for him to pay.”
Once she has finished speaking she places the Harrow deck on the table and folds her hands as she looks at you, trying to gauge your reactions.
"An address..."
Ceril looks determined, and stands up to leave.
"I thank you sincerely ma'm. You've given me what I've been after for that last few weeks. I pay back my debts. The first arrow in his neck will be for you. The second will be for me."
"Don't be so hasty," says Orson firmly. "You're going to, what, march past his minions and through his establishment and you expect it to be a simple stroll? You think he won't scamper off as soon as he hears someone coming, leaving his thugs to fight while he escapes out some back way, then creeps out of the slime later and uses his own ears on the street to hear that it was you and subject you to still greater torments than he has already?" Orson leans back and steeples his hands and says, "If you - or we - are going to do this, it must be done right. Quietly. Knowing what we're getting into."
"Maybe Westpier 17 is just an old empty warehouse and Gaedren Lamm is sitting on a sack of fish-heads, counting his ill-gotten gains. But maybe it's a front for a maze of rickety stalls and markets, with thugs and minions around every corner. We don't even know that much. Let's get some eyes on the castle before we lay siege to it."
Arianna looks around the table, her gaze lingers on Ceril for a moment. The black cat fixes its yellow eyes on Orson.
Dammit he's right.
Ceril sits back down, feeling foolish.
"Recon I can handle. Is that the plan then? Should we plan here or gather information first?"
We need to be careful about how this venture proceeds. The less "public" the better.
Arianna looks at Ceril and Orson, then at Atherton and Nicolai. She strokes the black cat, it purrs, but keeps it yellow eyes on Orson.
"Unless Madame Zellara can offer us anymore information, it might be safer planning this venture elsewhere. Maybe a reading before we go?"
"Lamm tends to like to use children to do his dirty work. He employs them as thieves mostly. He does not have any known enforcers, but that doesn't mean that he lacks them completely. I have seen several of his children with obvious signs of physical abuse."
Atherton pauses and then adds "We should assume that he will use them as hostages at the first opportunity. We should probably remove the children from the equation, then deal with the man himself."
Ceril nods.
If I'm going to stain my hands tonight, I'd rather it be from Lamm's neck rather than unfortunate children...
"So before taking on the man himself, we remove his resources around him. Anyone have a safe place to send them, or do we just knock them out so they don't get in the way?"
What a fine thing capital punishment is! Dead men never repent; dead men never bring awkward stories to light. The prospect of the gallows, too, makes them hardy and bold...
"I think we all agree that any justice brought to Lamm should not endanger the children. However, we need to do our best to discover what resources that old man has access too, and who he has to defend him." Arianna toys with the glass on the table before her. "My fam... I might be able to help find a safe place for them, though I cannot guarantee it until I as... make some arrangements."
Ah, it’s a fine thing for the trade! Five of them strung up in a row, and none left to play booty or turn white-livered!
"So its agreed. The children are removed from the equation. I don't know how long this info is good for. Regardless, we should move quickly."
Orson taps his finger on the arm of his chair, thinking, then finally says, "All right. Of note, the waterfront occasionally has altercations with local druids who try to protect the tidal areas. I know a bit about the scuffles there; if such individuals make an appearance, let me try talking to them first."
"We may need to gather some information on the location, and any comings and goings from that address. I am not sure how we go about doing that personally. Maybe we can afford time to get a feel for Lamm's operation? When the children are out of harm's way."
"I've been tracking his operation for a while now. I just was missing the exact location of his base of operations. Far as I can tell, he prefers to not have any (or very many) enforcers. It helps with maintaining his veneer of innocence." Atherton pauses before continuing "At any rate, we should go look at this warehouse and plan from there. Standing around guessing at hypotheticals is not helpful." with that, the man wearing concealing clothing heads out into the street.
Arianna eyes follow the departing Atherton, as she stands the black cat leaps onto the table and stares at the departing man, "Now? We should not be so hasty," she glances at the others, "Maybe the daylight hours would be more appropriate for... us to look at the warehouse. I... imagine they would be more active at night, and we do not have the cover of the daily bustle to conceal us!"
Do we stay or do we go?
"Well, I'd rather not be walking into a covert mission with a group of people I barely know. Can I at least get some pertinent background?"
Remember Ceril, extend the olive branch and it should be returned.
"For starters, I have trained my whole life to join the Sable company and while my prospects are lacking currently, my skills are not."
He taps his bow with the knuckles.
"You can count on me for ranged support. I have a few unconventional arrows, but those are in limited reserve."
"Sable company! Quite a feat," says Orson. "My name, for those who didn't get it before, is Orson. I have a small garden plot here in town and I make my living simply, by tending a few vegetables and animals and bartering in the market. I am an adept of the green world and I work to bridge the gap between the city and the wild by helping people to understand and appreciate the gifts of nature even in the city."
Arianna hesitates for a moment, "My name is Arianna Surtova, and this is Mephistopheles," the black cat turns to regard everyone with an imperious look, "I am a student of Lucien the Wise at the University of Lepidstadt, and have some knowledge of the arcane arts." She pauses to look at Ceril. "My house remains dedicated to protecting the city and its citizens, and I will uphold that tradition. Please understand that these are difficult times, and while I want to bring Lamm to justice for the murder of my sister, I must also ensure I do not bring dishonour to my house as well. The reason I have dressed like this," she points out her outfit, "is an attempt to hide my affiliations. However, we must be honest and trust each other if we are going to succeed in stopping this monster."
As you begin to make your plans Zellara looks at Arianna and says "A reading? An excellent idea. Wish I would have thought of that." She stops idly shuffling her cards and withdraws nine of them from the deck and lays them on the table. Indicating for each of you to choose one you draw one of the cards from the pile and, in turn, reveal them.
;
;
;
Arianna reveals hers first, it is The Crows. Zellara looks at the card before saying "Someone, or something, that you love has been taken from you either through theft or death. Or such can be prevented or the theft was for a good cause."
Ceril flips his card over on the table, it is The Juggler. "Destiny, Zellara pronounces "Or Fate. If you can keep your balls in the air you can achieve your goals. Falter and tragedy befalls those whose lives you meddle with"
Atherton turns his card face up to reveal The Cricket. Zellara smiles "A journey with treasure for the taking, or one that is lost"
Nicolai's next. His card is the The Rabbit Prince. "Combat personified, capricious in nature." Zellara tells you "No one, no matter who, is safe in the whirl of battle."
Finally Orson reveals his card. It is The Dance. "Stay in step, keep the rhythm, for the good of all. One misstep may bring ruin to others."
Zellara collects the cards from the table and returns them to her deck. Shuffling once more she lays out nine cards on the table, in three rows of three. Starting with the left hand column she begins to reveal them.
; ;
; ;
; ;
Zellara begins the reading with events that happened in the past, Moving to the middle column she explains events that are happening now. once she reveals the first card in the right column it is "The Crows". Looking to Arianna she smiles "That which has been taken will be returned." she tells the young noblewoman. Throughout the entire reading there are vague portents of unrest and violence to come and that through it all heroes will rise to meet it.
"That which has been taken will be returned."
Arianna looks at Zellara in surprise, and the imperious eyes of the black cat regard the fortune teller suspiciously, "Do you see... what do you mean by "returned""
Ceril contemplates the old woman's words. Silently. He waits for the others to ask for clarification and question her vague words, but he himself is content with what is provided. He then stands up and motions to the others.
"With that said, I think its time we got to work. What say you all?"
"As I said, who I am is unimportant. Only getting to Gaedren Lamm is of value, and then making sure he gets what is coming to him."
"I've no pressing obligations tonight," says Orson. "I think this card is probably self-explanatory."
"Then let's move"
"Okay," says Arianna, she looks at Madame Zellara to see if the older woman has more to say, "We should go." She kneels to pick up the Mephisto and draws him into her cloak.