The Diva's Requiem (Inactive)

Game Master FratManCy

"Ursula De Valle wore something similar. She seemed to be close to Corrin back in the day though I can't think of what she's up to these days. I do remember she was a rather accomplished interpretive dancer. I wouldn't be surprised if she isn't pursuing martial arts."

Lets have another of those Lore rolls to see if that name rings a bell with Zaliana.

Lore (Varisian performers): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Indeed it does!

Zaliana heard of another diva, she was an interpretive dancer who also lived within the Oriat. Ursula is a lavender toned gnome who excelled in interpretive dancing as well as belly dancing. She happened own a property near Sweet Talker Row called The Velvet Image that holds a guest performance every starday.

Sarrus grimaces, looking over the picture beside the Headmasters. More questions than answers, as had been the theme for the night. "Do you have any idea who the erased figure may be? Or who the others in the portrait are? This might not be an isolated incident, and could well be a vengeance years in the making. If that's the case, than Corrin may not be an isolated incident."

Zaliana shares the info she recalls with the other teammembers.

"Sounds like we're gonna need to pay this bend* Ursula a visit once we're done here. If nobody knows what she's been up to, why don't we take the headmaster up on his suggestion and see if she's hangin' around any local martial arts joints? Anybody know of any?"

That's my polite way of asking someone to do a Knowledge: Local check. :)

Other than that, Agnis is content to continue questioning the headmaster about the matter. Sarrus seems to be onto something... a drawing with multiple figures, a numeral, one marked out... It makes sense to Agnis.

It also means that there could be more deaths to come.

- - - -

Kaer Maga lingo 101: Bend (noun) - A small-sized humanoid (i.e. gnome, halfling, etc.) considered attractive even to larger races; "worth bending down for. Thanks, City of Strangers!

"Sarrus, your words bite deep. I cannot fathom why anyone would wish for vengeance upon a member of this society. This academy which was created by my ancestor if you will know understood one thing - that our bohemian lifestyle was welcoming to all in the pursuit of the bardic arts. It shames me to think that one of our own would kill another. Our goal is to support the arts, not diminish it by petty rivalry. Matters such as they were meant in snooty cities like Magnimar and Kintargo." A passionate speech rose from the headmaster as he peered upon the party. "Of this inquiry you have, I cannot recall such an individual. However, now that I think about it, this picture could have been of the pre-college program we ran that year."

The headmaster had a way of rolling into stories. You weren't quite sure if he was this dramatic or it was his nature as a headmaster to paint scenes with his words. "These individuals could have been from our Seedling Class, which were students selected on their merit. When our academy faced staggering numbers for admission, we had to make the hard decision of being selected like the other schools. Sadly, many of the applicants didn't make it but some would try again in the future such as Ursula. What strikes me though is why would Corrin keep such a trivial momento when her story of success is more rich and worth listening to."

Ingre couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions concerning the headmaster. On one hand, she felt that the headmaster was telling the truth about his class but yet it was as if he was hiding something. He had been too easy and forthright about divulging details about Corrin and the tragedy. Could he have been involved?

Being a cleric wasn't an easy task. You were chosen by the gods to act as their messenger and embody their faith so that others can learn and benefit. While Desna could be a fickle goddess, she did prove a guiding star to all those who were lost. Ingre produced her holy symbol and whispered a small prayer to Desna.

"Oh Goddess of travel and dreamers, please grant me the power and strength to see the truth."

Ingre clasped her hands and asked the headmaster with confidence.

"Are you telling the truth about Corrin and this Seedling Class? Are you in any way involved. If you are, the repercussions will be less severe."

I hope its okay if I use my domain ability Bit of Luck on a sense motive to see if the Headmaster is lying? I know its not combat but it might prove useful ^_^

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16 <-- I guess this is the one!

Zaliana also pays close attention to the headmaster's reactions.

Sense motive: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32 Edit - BAM! Bluff that, Mister.

Well goblin squash! Dem rolls!

Sarrus muses over the name Ursula and this Seedling Class, trying to remember if his wandering about the Oriat and Kaer Maga has already put him in touch with some of them. He'd met so many people in the City of Strangers, but how to keep them all straight?

Knowledge(local): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

"A school of bards without rivalry is like an academy of swordsmen sworn off dueling. Someone targeting Corrin for her successes--and leaving her in such a spectacle for us all to see--seems an act worthy of a tragedy. Maybe whoever did this couldn't upstage a living Corrin, but saw a means of using her to achieve fame of their own." A chill ran down the man's spine. "It's like the grim markings of territory we see down in the Undercity. Right before we seal off that tunnel. This one's just marking the stage as its own... right before we hunt him down."

Ingre was horrified at Sarrus' statement.

Can it be that such monstrosities can happen within a city's borders? Have I been a wanderer for too long?

Ingre was confident that the headmaster knew something that he wasn't sharing. She had to play this correct. Too much force and the man could crack but if she let him off easy than their efforts were for vain. Ingre calmed her heart and took a step closer to the headmaster.

"We're well aware that you're putting on a performance, headmaster. You ashamed to admit it but there is something that transpired between you, Corrin and the Seedling class that could be damning towards your career." There, she felt the moral high ground and was certain that her approach would meet a favorable outcome. "We aren't Kaer Magan police or inquisitors. We're concerned citizens from different backgrounds and we're the only ones invested in stopping further tragedies from happening but if we're going to that," she said while firmly placing an armored hand upon Thaddeus' shoulder "we need your full cooperation. Do you understand?"

Great job guys! ^_^

Zaliana moved a bit closer to the headmaster, doing her best to back Ingre's efforts without pushing the emotional man to shut down or lash out.

As ingre says, we are only trying to bring whoever did this to justice. Anything you keep from us might prevent us from doing that. Perhaps if we spoke somewhere a bit more private? she suggests.

A heavy sigh escaped the headmaster.

"Not here."

With a small gesture, he motioned the party to follow him outside of the theater, walking along the grounds down a path of stone illuminated by magic that shone when stepped upon. Passing beyond a series of arches and bounding up several fights of stairs and they were met with a door reminiscent of an old master's painting that depicted a bohemian garden ripe with minstrels and maidens. A simple knock and the door magically opened giving berth to a room filled with trophies, book cases, instruments upon ivory pedestals, a rose colored couch facing a cocobolo desk and matching chair. The headmaster grabbed a small book from a nearby shelf as he made his way to the desk.

"Please sit for what I'm about to tell you should have been finished long ago." Allowing his thoughts to connect, Thaddeus riffled through the lavender colored tome for a journal entry. "Oh yes, here it is."

A slight purring came from a cat that had nestled itself upon a bookshelf bursting with volumes of sheet music within the corner. "The Seedling Class was our first and last experiment with auditions for the Academy. It had seemed like a good idea at the time but our selection process was...more of a military training program. Life in the Oriat isn't easy. Though we have a Joie de Vivre outlook, a squabble from a disgruntled group such as those dirty monks or gilded heathens could bring more senseless bloodshed to this thriving community."

The journey to the headmaster's office seemed rather rushed. The party had plodded through the path before she could enjoy the sights of the Lyceum. Though, she had to steel her mind for what was to come next.

Stay focused. We're onto something.

Ingre leaned against a wall rather than sitting among her peers. She had hoped that the headmaster would finally tell the truth but he was back to his verbose manner. "So, you were training warriors? What's the problem with that? Its not uncommon for artists and fighters to draw inspiration from each other."

"Dirty monks and gilded heathens? You wanna tell us who that's in reference to, pal?" Agnis offers a finger for the cat to lick. "And, what, you thought your plucky Seedling gang was gonna be your answer to them, or something?"

"Well the idea was that should the school become under attack from the Brother's of the Seal, we'd have a way to defend. We were even hoping our Bardic masterpieces could dispel the arcane sigils that bound the golems to their Ardoc masters. But, this is all just an after thought. Much didn't happen with the Seedling Class after the death of their applicant - Magda Rivas." The headmaster produced a pipe, loaded a greenish herb within its reservoir and conjured a spark with his finger allowing small vapors to expel. "Her death was a surprise to us all. We found her within the rose garden along the path laid by spiraling stones. You see, the garden was blessed in the name of Shelyn for whom this academy draws inspiration from. Sadly for Magda, she was fashioned into a flesh statue atop of the fountain which hallmarks our garden. Her death signified my ignorance for the Seedling Class and which is why this matter needs to be handled carefully."

He took a long drag from his pipe and sensation of relaxation came over the headmaster. "Does that answer your question, warrior?"

"You make it sound as though outright war would hit Kaer Maga's streets. That hasn't happened in generations. Cutpurses, cutthroats, and cut-worse around every corner? That's just life in this city." Sarrus chuckles, but it's a matter-of-fact sort of amusement rather than actual pleasure. The city he loved so much wasn't exactly a friendly place. It was a city of strangers, after all, and most strangers couldn't be trusted as far as you could throw 'em. "More pressingly, a dead student laid out on display for all to see sounds rather familiar. Sounds like the sort of thing you should have told us about right off the bat. Sounds like you're trying to hide more than you're letting on."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

"Please understand my situation."

He took another drag from his pipe, relished its taste and let the smoke flow from his nostrils. "I couldn't have told you this from the start otherwise I'd be considered the culprit of this murder mystery. But alas, you are right. "

A moment had passed and the Headmaster could see the party's eyes had focused on him.

"Fine...Seedling Class was my attempt at militarizing our school. Magda died, there were mysteries as to who killed her. In an effort so that the school wouldn't be shut down, I ruled the incident as malformed magic and tried for many years to forget about it. History has a funny way of changing that, huh?"

Regardless of your motivations, what we have found seems to indicate that Corrin's murder is tied to the Seedling class. Why don't you tell us who were in the class and what happened to them? There's a strong possibility that they are either suspects or potential future victims. Zaliana says, doing her best to sound encouraging rather than confrontational.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29

Those rolls! Again, Zaliana

The headmaster nearly choked with his last puff. A look of discontent flashed across his face as he struggled with the harsh smoke. With his free hand, Thaddeus rummaged for an inkpen and stationary while keeping a steady eye on the party.

"A moment."

The headmaster focused on recalling the names from a bygone memory he had hoped to forget. To him, he felt like he was digging a grave of a creature he hadn't wish to see again. A list of 7 of seven names appeared on the paper, with the exception of 2 being crossed out.

Corrin Dallery, Magda Rivas, Ursula De Valle, Marco Sinestri, Kormak Lorearthen, Pamela the Rose, Sergio Zetina

"These are the folks who graduated from that Seedling Class, sans Magda as you're well assured of. These people were the brightest and best that the academy could afford at the time".

He seemed to run a finger along the names as if recalling their candid details. "Marco Sinestri and Sergio Zetina were a pair of puppeteers who could command such magic through their props! They were a delight to be seen...until they succumbed to the wiles of substance and became drug addled pedarists in Korvosa. I suppose they should have focused more on their career than their next adventure. Then there was Kormak Lorearthen, a comic who had a sense of humor which is strange from dwarf kind. He had a promising career until his mouth got him in trouble in Cheliax. Abrogail didn't particularly like him." A sad smile formed on the headmaster's face as he thought about his former students. " Of the group, I'd say that Pamela and Usula would be the last two you could find. Ursula is still within Kaer Maga however Pamela the Rose is a retired diva but she might still be around?"

He took a deep toke of his pipe and looked upon Zaliana.

"Make of it what you will."

Seems the old man is powerless to resist my sultry gypsy charms. Who can blame him, really? :-)

We should seek out Ursula, and Pamela, if we can track her down. But unless you have more to tell us, we should return to the stage and finish our investigation. There are still areas that we haven't examined.

"Yeah, we better get on that. Thanks for your honesty, Thad." Agnis whispers to Zaliana: "Damn, nicely done! Got this guy wrapped around your finger, lady. So, what's our next stop? We've already covered the dressing room about as well as we can."

So, the investigation begins! You're welcome to examine the following areas - Stage, Dressing Rooms, Office, Audience, Storage,- just please make it clear so that I can properly inform you without making a mess. I don't want to be blamed for the murder!

So, we've searched the dressing room and the stage. Which of the remaining areas should we do next?

I’m quite confident that you gleaned all that you could from the Lyceum. I’m thinking you should move onto the next location so we can place our new heroes. Feel free to catch them on the adventure.

The party had spent considerable time learning what they could from the crime scene. The Diva had expired in part to poison, precision and possibly something else. Despite finding several clues such as a locket, a portrait, sheet music and a discarded liquid blade; the heroes were still fumbling for their next hunch. Thanks to the efforts of Zaliana, she was able to learn that the Headmaster knew of important figures such as Ursula and Pamela, 2 surviving members of the Seedling Class. It was Ursula who held residency in Kaer Maga not far from Sweet Talker Row in an establishment known as the Velvet Image. With their destination in mind, the party bade their farewells to the Headmaster.

Aralee Krtim, dwarf without a clan, is pacing nervously at the entrance, dark eyes darting in all directions. The beads on her braids clank against each other and against what looks like a rocky lump on her shoulder. The lump eventually stirs, revealing itself to be a bird, and takes off into the air with an annoyed caw.

"You're making me dizzy," it complains.

She stops and focuses on the party as they exit, an anxious frown on her young face.

"Is there any news?" she asks, her words heavy with a Dwarven accent. "Poor Miss Dallery..."

Well, introduce yourself to these people, prompts her mother's spirit to her.

Aralee starts. "Oh! I am Aralee Krtim, travelling merchant and spellcaster." She holds up her hand to shake with the others, being small even for her race. "This is my thrush, Barza."

"I'm my own thrush," says Barza, who stares openly at the party with eyes like glittering gemstones.

"I was not planning on staying in town long," continues Aralee, ignoring the bird, "but I stayed to catch the performance. Perhaps I may offer my services to solve this terrible crime? Little escapes the notice of Barza and me, and some of the knowledge from my travels could be of assistance."

Really, asks her brother Grwal, you're going to leave out the most interesting part?

She cedes to his logic and adds, "Sometimes, the Stone even grants me the power to see through walls."

Aralee feels a bit guilty taking time out of her search for her father to offer her help here, but he would understand the need to stop this sort of brutality.

Zaliana regards the strange dwarf with puzzlement, then greets her with a reserved smile.

"Well met, Aralee. I am Zaliana. My companions and I have been trying to learn the truth about Miss Dallery's death, but so far it feels like we've uncovered more questions than answers. However, we have learned that the murder may be connected to a group of former students of this academy. One of them lives here in Kaer Maga, and we're headed to talk to her now. You are welcome to join us. I expect we'll need all the help we can get, from both knowledge and magic, to solve this riddle."

Once she's done talking, Zaliana nods her head slightly and turns to shoot her companions a look, inviting them to either object or introduce themselves.

Stepping from the shadows, a stranger lowers the hood of his dark gray cloak. He is a thin man, with reddish, sunburned-looking skin and short black hair and beard. Perhaps I can be of service, if knowledge and magic are required. The stranger says, flashing a carnivore's smile full of sharp teeth. My name is Lysander. I came to this city from the south looking for work as a mercenary, but I am not unlearned, and have some skill in spellcasting. As he speaks, you may notice faint whiffs of blood and smoke, or that his golden-orange eyes seem to glow softly.

"...the hell's a thrush?" Agnis mutters, exposing his ignorance, as Aralee makes her introduction. "...Nevermind. Good to have you on board, lady dwarf. I'm sure you'll come in handy."

And then, suddenly, another figure appears- Lysander. "You, too, huh? Good thing, 'cause it seems like a couple'a our contemporaries lost their stomach for it. Don't blame 'em. It's pretty grotesque stuff."

He looks Lysander up and down and sniffs. Reminds me of me. Better keep an eye on this guy.

"Aye," Sarrus murmurs to Agnis's comment. "Seen plenty of men lose their heart for the Undercity the second they see it proper. People think because they've kicked about their old second cellars they know what's there." He pauses. "They don't. But it's this sort of crap."

He shrugs, laughing it off. Mostly. The life of a Duskwarden wasn't all the glamor it seemed to have up in Kaer Maga proper. And Sarrus had only just gotten his feet wet down there. As awful as Corrin's death was, at least it was underneath the ancient ceiling of his walled city, not beneath it.

"But yeah. Help is definitely appreciated. Fresh eyes from fresh places for a city full of all sorts of strangers. I don't suppose either of you have frequented the Velvet Image recently?"

Lysander shakes his head, frowning. "Can't say that I have, no. I'm fairly new in town, spent most of my time in the Bottoms."

"Business dealings have been my main focus. Tonight was to be the first night I went out. Is that where you plan to look next? We'd better get going."

Aralee takes a moment to savour the feeling of being part of a group again. So long has she travelled clanless. Not even Barza's companionship (sometimes more uncomfortable than not) has been able to make up for losing the sense of belonging that home had always given her. Until you ruined it.

Well, now that introductions seem to be in order, lets get going, shall we? Zaliana says. She does her best to relay everything the group has learned to Aralee and Lysander as they sll walk through the city.

Moonlight basked Kaer Maga in a silvery glow as the party had left the Lyceum. With two new members in tow – a Dwarf possessed shaman blessed by the Earth and a Tiefling Magus, the party was ready to further their journey in solving the mystery of the Diva's untimely death. Thanks to their efforts they were able to learn that the Diva had played a bigger role, for she and several others were part of a graduating group of peers known as the Seedling Class, which was the Lyceum's militant answer to the clandestine war between the Brothers of the Seal and any other hostile action within the Oriat. Though much of the group had been disbanded through various circumstances, the party believed that there was one other member who lived in proximity.

Bounding through the streets of the night market and bizarre, the party made their way towards the Velvet Image to speak with Ursula de Valle in order to learn more about the Corrin's death and who or what may have been involved. As they turned the corner and passed through the Sweet Talker Row, a lavender colored building festooned with paper lanterns stuck out like a peeling sticker from the honeycomb architecture. A sign that danced in the wind revealed it was the Velvet Corner.

Aralee shudders. "I hope we do not see anything like what we saw on that stage at the college."

Now that she has planted that grim thought in her head, she is a little apprehensive to approach. She whispers a quick invocation to Abadar in Dwarven (casts guidance) then stops and listens at the door in case of any trouble.

Perception: 1d20 + 15 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 15 + 1 = 32 (+1 guidance)

In the meantime, Barza does a loop around the building to spot what Dwarven eyes might not.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

If Aralee or Barza notice anything unusual, they pass it on for discussion/reaction, and if not, Aralee opens the door and goes in.

Sarrus stands beside the door with Aralee, his everburning torch in hand as his decidedly less dwarven eyes scan the darkness for any signs of trouble. He rests a hand on his blade, ready to be the first through if something was wrong... or be the first in even if everything was normal. Having a Duskwarden come knocking tended to get people's attention, even if was often the wrong sort of attention.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Agnis, one hand on the hilt of the greatsword on his back, snoops alongside Sarrus, ready for trouble. "Hey, so, should we just head on in? I know we don't want to spook anybody, but... just sayin', I won't mind that much if a brawl does happen to break out." He fails to suppress his grin.

Lysander smirks at Agnis's pronouncement, hand instinctively going to the hilt of his short sword. "We could try knocking before we open it. I find that usually gets better results than just barging in. Well, unless someone is waiting for us."

"It's a shop, right? Well, we're just a motley group of patrons as far as anyone should be concerned. I don't see anything out of the ordinary... At least no dead bodies or serial killers. It's late... but it's Kaer Maga. Nothing is unheard of. So in we go?"

Sarrus offers a single knock on the door before testing the door to see if it was open.

If it is, he'll head on in and say the following. Otherwise he'll just sort of call it through the door.

"Hello? Anyone home? Hate to barge in at this hour, but we've got some business that needs to be addressed as soon as possible."

Before they go in, Aralee relays to the others what she and Barza have noticed.

"Maybe we should check that out. I can send Barza to peek through the keyhole first."

"Yeah, maybe. If somebody's 'frantic,' they probably either need help or are trying to get away. Either way, we oughtta take a look."

Hold on. I have another way to determine if danger awaits us.

Zaliana moves to the door, then gestures and utters a series of arcane phrases. She then falls silent, as if trying to focus on a distant conversation.

As Zaliana is casting magic, the sound of something crashing breaks the night's silence.

I sense four minds inside. Three active, and one that seems to be fading from this world. We'd better get in there.

Zaliana stands ready to enter, but leaves it to one of the others to go first. She maintains concentration on her spell, trying to sort out the surface thoughts of the four individuals.

Need somebody to go first? That's my job! Not sure which door we're at, but I'm assuming it's the nearest one to where Zaliana detected all that thought activity.

Agnis smiles grimly at Zaliana's words. "If anybody's got a better idea, stop me!" If no one does, he swings the greatsword off his back and against the door, hoping to knock it off the hinges. He'll delay momentarily before swinging to give anyone a chance to stop him if you guys have a better plan.

+1 Greatsword versus the nearest appropriate door: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
Damage if necessary: 2d6 + 7 ⇒ (5, 5) + 7 = 17

Zaliana lays a restraining hand on Agnis arm as he raises his sword.

Save your strength for more dangerous foes, Agnis. Try the handle first, for all we know the door might be unlocked

If the door/wall is stone or metal, Aralee will look through it using her Stone hex and describe what she sees.

After a cursory glance, the door to Madame Ursula's business was indeed locked. With a simple grin, the hulking warrior Agnis had little trouble with cleaving the door handle clear off the door. As the object dropped to the ground, the door seemed to open inward for a moment allowing Zaliana, Agnis and Aralee a brief peek at what seemed to be a dimly lit foyer. A lone candelabra basked a hexagonal shaped entreway with several nooks for shoes and other miscellaneous objects.

"In the next chamber!" Aralee whispers to the others after describing what she sees. She and Barza move warily towards it, leading the way.