From the Journal of Agon Deparle

Aria did not pause in her attacks. She used magic herself and she knew that to hesitate, to give the magician time to finish his magic, could be deadly. Her mace found Lagren’s side. She had put all of her force into the blow and felt it must have broken his ribs.

From behind her, three missile of pure magical force streaked by Aria’s head and slammed into Lagren, forcing him backwards. Mari’s wand! The others must be in the fight! Pharasma had rewarded Aria’s courage and brought her family to fight by her side. The young priestess felt the touch of the Death Goddess herself as she fought.

Blinding ferocious flame was all that Aria knew next. Lagren had, in spite of his wounds, completed his magic spell. He had called forth form realms beyond mortal men’s understanding a flame filled with the wrath of demons best never named, and that fire licked over Aria, filling her vision and knowledge; all she knew was fire and pain as she felt her very face melt in the heat.

And then she knew nothing at all, but the silence and peace of Death.

*

From the Journal of Agon Deparle

“The Way of the Pharasma is found in death. When it comes to either/or, there is only the quick choice of death. It is not particularly difficult. Be determined and advance. To say that dying without reaching one's aim is to die a dog's death is the frivolous way of sophisticates. When pressed with the choice of life or death, it is not necessary to gain one's aim. If by setting one's heart right every morning and evening, one is able to live as though one’s body were already dead, one gains freedom in the Way. One’s whole life will be without blame, and you will succeed in your calling.”

Pharasma was displeased with her servant, Aria. She had always chosen death until just before she died. In the closing seconds of her life, her priestess had hesitated. She had shown fear. Her heart was not right. She had more to learn. Pharasma would give her servant the chance to learn more before she joined her in the halls of Death.

Death’s icy hand was stilled, and Aria’s life-beat did not still in the presence of the unholy flame; it beat weakly, but steadily on, it’s home a charred and unconscious woman lying still in the street.

*

From the Journal of Agon Deparle

“Bastard!” I yelled, bounding across the street, dagger in hand, to tackle Lagren to the ground.

I had not been fast enough to stop him burning Aria with his spell, but I would take my revenge. I would look into his eyes as I drove my dagger into his chest.

We rolled on the ground, through the muck and more than once bumping into the charred body of Aria. She murmured as my foot kicked her during my wrestling match with Lagren. By the gods, she was still alive!

I rolled on top of Lagren. His hands and mine were wrapped around the dagger and I slowly forced it down into his chest.

‘Die you fvcker!”

Yes, in hindsight I’d to have thought of something wittier, but it was the best I could do at the time.

In the corner of my eyes, I saw Osric maneuver for a shot, his sling whirling around his head. Deciding he might he me by mistake, the Dwarf changed targets. I didn’t see who hit hit, but heard a grunt of pain and heard a body hit the ground.

Lagren was smiling, even as my dagger began to cut his skin. My hand, in contact with his, began to go numb. My arms lost their strength. The dagger was pushed back. The cold numb sensation flowed through my arms like water, reaching my chest and my head. My vision swam. I tried to fight it. I could do nothing.

Lagren looked at me with his cold mean eyes and smiled.

“Die you fvcker,” he whispered back at me.

No, this could not be my end! I’d figured it all out. I knew! I knew! And here, with one of the key players at the end of my blade, I was failing.

The cold grew more intense and could hold out no more. The darkness took me and I knew nothing more.

*

From the Journal of Agon Deparle

“ENOUGH!” Olac the Orgre’s voice boomed across the night and held everyone still.

House Arkona guards and surrounded the street fight. Their weapons, melee and missle, were pointed at all parties.

Bodies lay everywhere. Aria and I lay still at the feet of Lagren. Marcus stood protectively over Yasmin, still bound. Marcus’ remaining opponent was out of breath and bleeding. He was glad for the respite. His companion lay still and was too far gone to be glad of anything anymore. Tain crouched by Aria, ignoring all else to mouth silent prayers of thanks as the power of his god restored some of the damage done by Lagren’s magical flames. Mari stood shaking slightly, lowering her magical wand and glad for the moment that she did not have to fight Lagren’s magic with her own. And Osric? The Dwarf was nowhere to be seen, having slipped into the shadows as the House Arkona’s people arrived.

Lagren broke the silence.

“These people are thieves, trying to take my property.”

“He lies,” Marcus replied with authority. “That man there was holding this woman illegally. She is a citizen of Korvosa. We are simply acting to restore her freedom.”

“She comes with us,” replied Olac the Ogre. “She’s ours.”

“She belongs to herself alone,” replied Marcus. “She is of the House Arkona, as you know, and she will stay with me to recover from her ordeal. When she decides to return to you, I will deliver her; on that, you have my word as a scion of the House Merivanchi.”

The ogre considered the words, his head tilted almost as if he were listening to someone else’s voice.

“It is agreed, Marcus of the House Merivanchi,” he said at last. “She is hereby released into you custody.” The ogre chuckled as he continued. “After all, if we want to come get her, we know where to find you.”

Marcus nodded his head once, ignoring the ogre’s final words. The nobleman extended his hand to assist Yasmin to her feet. As she stood she hugged him, clinging to her saviour.

“Thank you. Forever and ever, thank you.”

Marcus looked around. Tain signaled that Aria was going to be okay, but needed temple healing. Mari stood over me, gently shaking my shoulders to wake me. Up to the rooftops, Marcus saw Osric wave. His people would be okay, at least for now. Marcus sighed. What mad journey were they one that was taking them so close to death and destruction so often?

Lagren fumed, but wounded as he was, with more than three quarters of his bodyguard dead or incapacitated around him, he could do little but acquiesce to the dictates of House Arkona now. With a nod of his head at Olac, and one last stare at Marcus, the Magnimar Councilor stormed off into the Korvosan night.

*

Excellent write up as usual Deparle!

However, Mari did not use the wand against Lagren, she was thrilled to try her own magic against the wizard. So she cast magic missile herself and followed that with spectral hand and shocking grasp.

It was her first chance to go toe-to-toe against another wizard.

Very nicely written. It's really fun to read!

What happened to Agon? What did Lagren use to neutralize him?

"Mari did not use the wand against Lagren, she was thrilled to try her own magic against the wizard. So she cast magic missile herself and followed that with spectral hand and shocking grasp."

She did? Cool! I didn't know she was powerful enough for that. My apologies for getting it wrong, Chubbs. In Agon's defence, he was not at the scene at the time. (I shall change the official records to reflect the truth.)

Moonbeam, thanks again. I'm glad the write-ups are fun to read. And what happened to Agon? He got taken down by sme kind of Sleep spell, I just wrote it as dramatically as I could based on the GM's description.
(Yes, a freaking Sleep spell! How embarassing.)

"Mari did not use the wand against Lagren, she was thrilled to try her own magic against the wizard. So she cast magic missile herself and followed that with spectral hand and shocking grasp."

She did? Cool! I didn't know she was powerful enough for that. My apologies for getting it wrong, Chubbs. In Agon's defence, he was not at the scene at the time. (I shall change the official records to reflect the truth.)

Moonbeam, thanks again. I'm glad the write-ups are fun to read. And what happened to Agon? He got taken down by sme kind of Sleep spell, I just wrote it as dramatically as I could based on the GM's description.
(Yes, a freaking Sleep spell! How embarassing.)

Very nicely written. It's really fun to read!

What happened to Agon? What did Lagren use to neutralize him?

Osric didn't kill the guard either as Aria would have not been happy with cold blooded murder. Self defence is ok.

The whole seducing the guard went very badly. I assume that this is written as what Osric would have told Agon because Osric is a sneaky evil little slime ball (Aria's opinion).

Aria: Hello big boy (yadda yadda)
Guard: Not interested - you're kinda freaky, why are you dressed in leather and have an eye patch?
Aria: um ,um, Im kinda new at this how about a discount (good diplomacy roll).
Guard: Ok I suppose so...

Osric: < Sneaks up on the Guard and attempts to bash him over the head with a sap. He rolls very badly doing minimal damage>

Guard: Wha what HEL....

Aria: <Head-buts the guard in the face to stop him yelling>

Aria, Osric: <Pummel the guard into unconsciousness>.

I thought half-elves were immune to sleep spells?

"Mari did not use the wand against Lagren, she was thrilled to try her own magic against the wizard. So she cast magic missile herself and followed that with spectral hand and shocking grasp."

She did? Cool! I didn't know she was powerful enough for that. My apologies for getting it wrong, Chubbs. In Agon's defence, he was not at the scene at the time. (I shall change the official records to reflect the truth.)

To be honest, Mari was probably not powerful enough to take on Lagren by herself. However, she was damn keen to bring down an enemy wizard with her magic. For her, it was a chance to prove herself against a foe with magic v. magic.

She didn't go too well, her shocking grasp via spectral hand failed to hit more than once and she only got off one magic missile spell before the end.

I am adding some new spells to her spellbook for 4th-level, so hopefully she can pack more of a punch next time. She is completing the research on storm of thorns from the book the heroes took from the Thassilonian tomb.

I thought half-elves were immune to sleep spells?

Something that should have been pointed out in-game? ;-)

Tain’s Journal
The rescue of Yasmin Marcella
Night, the 4th of Calistril

I will be brief in my description of my part in the remainder of the night’s events; I am sure that someone closer to the heart of the action, such as Agon Deparle, will tell it better. My part consisted mainly of inglorious sneaking about under the direction of Osric; waiting whilst Osric despatched a guard; impersonating said guard whilst Osric and Aria dealt with another; hiding so as not to be seen by a third guard; then spending a long while standing watch whilst the others went off to find Yasmina.

It was the sound of combat out in the laneway that at last drew me away from my guard duty, where I beheld Aria facing off alone against a purple robed mage (who appeared to have Yasmina in his custody) and his bodyguards. I charged into the fray, but was prevented from reaching the tall, arrogant looking mage by a trio of his guards.

As I traded blows with the thugs, the rest of our party dashed out from some hidden vantage to assist, Marcus taking on the men guarding Yasmin, Mari trading spells with the mage, Osric selecting targets at range, and Agon seeking to find a way past the guards to engage the mage in close combat.

Although the warriors amongst us fared well, there were too many guards for us to fight past quickly. Aria was felled by a blast of hellfire from the wizard, and Agon, having finally reached the mage was soon after rendered insensible by a second spell.

Determined to reach Aria, who I feared grievously wounded, if not dead, I smashed aside the last warrior who faced me and ran to the priestess’s side. Her face was a charred wreck, the pallor of death was about her unburnt flesh, and I felt no pulse or breath … for a moment. But then, a weak pulse. Praying to Abadar, I placed hands upon her face and neck where she had received the brunt of the blast and channelled healing energy into her, restoring her flesh … and slowly bringing life back to her.

Meanwhile, the fight had been broken up by forces from the slave house (servants of House Arkona as I later learnt). They took the purple robed mage (who I later discovered was Peryarv Lagren, a diplomat from Magnimar) into custody, and would have done the same with Yasmina if it were not for Marcus’ forceful refusal.

Instead, they returned to the house with Lagren, leaving us alone in the laneway.

Chubbs McGee wrote:

I thought half-elves were immune to sleep spells?

Something that should have been pointed out in-game? ;-)

I did, but I was told that it might not be a normal sleep spell. May be players should seek to check the rules... It wasn't my character so I didn't push it. If Agon wants to be asleep, he can be.

Tain’s Journal
Night, the 4th of Calistril
Brock House

Following the skirmish outside the slave den on Summoning Street, our bruised and battered group made our way through the dark streets towards Brock House. Having healed Aria of the worst of her battle wounds, I supported her on the walk, whilst Marcus and Agon (recovered from his magically induced impairment, but in a foul mood) closely guarded Lady Yasmina. Mari bent low, discussing something quietly with Osric as they went.

As we walked, my mind raced, trying to take in the night’s events. We had rescued Lady Yasmina Marcella, had attacked and severely injured the Magnimarian Ambassador, and had discovered House Arkona seemingly at the centre of an evil criminal operation.

We would see Lady Yasmina safe - whether we arranged for Ambassador Amprei to see her would be her own choice.

For his crimes Peryarv of Magnimar would no doubt be punished harshly by House Arkona, never mind that they had no lawful mandate to mete out such punishment. Still, justice was served, after a fashion.

What troubled me more was how to deal with House Arkona. The rich and powerful often think themselves above the law; they are not of course - no one truly is. But the sad fact is that the richer and more powerful the accused, the more compelling the evidence against them needed to be, and I had to admit that the evidence we had against the Arkonas was circumstantial at best - no judge in Korvosa would bring charges against that powerful family, let alone try the case. I had to decide how to pursue them; gather the needed evidence and follow the processes to prosecute them through the laws of men; or bring the sword of justice against them personally as an instrument of divine Law.

But such quandaries could wait - they would not be solved without much contemplation, prayer and spiritual advice, never mind that I currently had neither the evidence nor the skill at arms to pursue either course. Right now we had more immediate concerns to attend to.

We reached the Merivanchi townhouse without incident, and a spare bed room was hastily made up for Yasmin. Marcus gave his wife a (likely much abridged) summary of the night’s events, and Lady Cristiana saw Yasmin settled, and comforted her against the trials she must have endured. The rest of us meanwhile took counsel together.

Once the events of the evening had been well and truly discussed and dissected, talk turned to the present and near future. Ileosa’s coronation was tomorrow night, and we had still not found Trinia Sabore. Although we had been given no deadline, Marcus and Agon in particular wished to have the matter resolved prior to the coronation.

“We should do this tomorrow,” Marcus declared. We all looked at Aria, who had suffered the most in the night’s battle, and who looked little up to a morning jaunt, despite the fire damage having been healed, but the priestess smiled.

“I agree,” she said. “First thing in the morning. I just need a good night’s rest and an hour in prayer to Pharasma and I’ll be ready.”

“Morning?” questioned Mari. “Mustn’t these sort of things be done by dark of night?”

“If we are to be invisible then what does it matter?” Aria replied. “Yes, let us attempt this in the morning!”

“I have been wondering if we are going about this the wrong way,” I spoke up. “Hellknights are surely forbidding and intractable, but they respect legitimate authority. If we can convince them that we have lawful need to pursue a suspect into the area they guard - which is the truth - they may let us pass.”

“You want to negotiate with Hellknights?” Marcus sounded incredulous. “I don’t think so Tain.” The others agreed with Marcus and I dropped the matter, but privately resolved to discover more of the Hellknights’ actual orders.

Talk turned back to when we should pursue our objective. “Not in the morning,” said Agon. “I have somewhere I need to be. Lunchtime, the activity should work in our favour.”

“I hardly imagine that Hellknights break for lunch,” scoffed Mari.

“No,” Agon replied, “but others in the city will, and the more activity that may distract the Hellknights from us the better.”

We all agreed with this logic, and so we had a time - but one problem remained.

Although we had a reasonably good idea where Trinia was (if the information that Agon had from his criminal brother, who heard it from a drunken fencing instructor could be trusted …) and had at least half a dozen ideas on how to get past the Hellknight cordon, we would still have four city blocks (tightly packed blocks in Old Korvosa at that) to search when and if we got past the Hellknights.

“Perhaps I could find her, pinpoint the location, using the same spell with which I found Yasmin,” Mari suggested. Marcus was, naturally enough against the idea, reminding his sister that she had almost died last time she tried that … but Mari was persuasive and convincing, insisting that she had refined and perfected the magic, that it was now perfectly safe. The rest of us agreed that this seemed our best chance of finding Trinia; Marcus was outvoted and it was decided that Mari would try her spell in the morning.

Tain’s Journal
Interesting Information
Early morning the 5th of Calistril

Following an early breakfast at Brock House, I prepared to head to the Bank of Abadar. Mari would accompany me as far as Osric’s warehouse (where she had arranged for the dwarf to assist her somehow with her magic) and Agon had departed in the night, promising to meet back with us at the townhouse two hours before noon.

Over breakfast, Marcus had gently questioned Yasmin about her ordeal; she had little of value to tell. She had not known who her captors were or where she had been kept, except that she had, from time to time been moved from one location to another, at one point somewhere out of the city she thought – the place in the Thieves Camp we suspected.

All things considered, she had been treated well enough and did not seem unduly traumatised by her ordeal.

When Marcus broached the subject of Ambassador Amprei, Lady Yasmin expressed a desire to see him, tempered by a wish not to seem improper. Marcus agreed to send a message to the ambassador letting him know that Yasmin was safe and suggesting that a meeting be arranged. He penned a letter directly and had Dante deliver it.

***

Upon my arrival at the Bank of Abadar, I sought out a cleric by the name of Ardele Lianti. Although a fairly junior priest, Ardele often assisted the Archbanker and some of the other clerics, and was thus privy to a lot of information. She was also something of a gossip, and although her loyalty to the church stopped her short of impropriety, she was still a good source of information.

“What have you heard of the Hellknights who have been stationed around several blocks in Old Korvosa for these past two weeks?” I asked once pleasantries and blessings had been exchanged. “What are their orders?”

“They are under strict orders to let no one leave the blocks they guard, save perhaps for select members of the Acadamae,” Ardele replied.

“The Acadamae?” I exclaimed in surprise. “What interest have they in Trinia Sabore?”

Ardele looked confused for a moment before comprehension dawned. “Oh, you refer to the woman wanted on suspicion of regicide. Yes, I’ve heard the rumours that the Hellknight’s guard her … the rumours are false, or so I suspect. Why would they stay in position for almost two weeks without moving against her?”

I had to admit I had wondered the same, though I had begun to think that perhaps the Hellknights were for some reason trying to protect the girl.

“No, as I said they’re not letting anyone out, but although they warn people away, they will let people into the area … but they warn you will not be allowed out again, so I don’t think many have taken up that offer. At any rate, I believe that Archbanker Tuttle has been briefed on their purpose here – I can’t say what that is though.”

The Archbanker was not at the Bank, being at Castle Korvosa in preparation for the coronation ceremony that evening. Armed with the information that Trinia was likely not where we thought she was, I returned to Brock House to inform the others.

Tain’s Journal
A Visitor and an Invitation
Late Morning the 5th of Calistril
Brock House

I was not the only one who returned with news, and Mari had done better than me – her magic had discovered Trinia’s actual location – a building on the corner of Fort Korvosa Boulevard and Wave Street. Still in Old Korvosa, a block away from where we thought she was.

With midday approaching, we made ready for the task ahead. Everyone had returned save for Osric, who had decided not to accompany us on the mission to secure Trinia (perhaps his financial arrangement with Marcus did not cover that, despite his other help; perhaps he had some other reason), but had offered some assistance.

I was in the hall, waiting whilst the others got ready upstairs or elsewhere in the house (as I seldom walk the streets without my weapons and armour in attendance) when there came a rap at the door. Being at hand, and with all the servants otherwise occupied I answered it, and was surprised to see Sabine Merrin, the Queen’s bodyguard, armed and armoured also. She too seemed surprised, either at having me open the door or seeing me so attired I could not tell, but we both recovered quickly. I greeted her and invited her in, then instructed Dante (who had belatedly arrived in the hall) to fetch his master.

Agon was in the sitting room, and bowed deeply when he beheld our guest – I’m sure he would have kissed her hand, had it not been gauntleted and resting on the hilt of her sword.

There was a moment of awkwardness as the three of us stood (Sabine having refused Agon’s offer of a seat), but we were saved by the arrival of Marcus, who quickly took charge of the situation, enquiring of the health of the lady and her mistress and subtley asking her business.

“I’ve come at the behest of Queen Ileosa,” Sabine answered. “The recent deeds you have performed on behalf of the city have not gone unnoticed by the Queen. She invites you all, and your guests, to attend her coronation ceremony this evening – as her guests, in the royal audience chamber.” Sabine handed Marcus a small envelope as she spoke.

The Merivanchi heir’s eyes widened. This was a reward indeed. Only the elite of Korvosa’s nobility and other important personages would actually be invited into the Castle for the coronation – everyone else would have to watch from the plaza below.

“The Queen also offers you this small monetary reward, to cover any expenses occurred,” Sabine continued, handing Marcus a bulging pouch of coins. Marcus absently handed the coins over to Agon, still looking in some wonder at the invitation. I can’t be certain, but I think I saw Sabine glance at Agon and wink. Agon stared back at her confidently, a half smile on his face, seemingly recovered from the ill mood that had gripped him last night.

“There is one more matter,” Sabine continued, still addressing Marcus. “How goes the search for Trinia Sabore?”

“Oh, we don’t know her exact whereabouts as yet,” Marcus lied smoothly, not at all deterred in his falsehood by our recent discussion, or the fact that we were all obviously kitted out for action. “We’re following up on a few promising leads though. We hope to have some good news for you in the near future.”

Sabine glanced around the room, looking doubtfully at us all. Marcus smiled pleasantly, Agon winked, I stood with a blank expression on my face, not quite looking either Sabine or Marcus in the eye. “Well then,” she said at last. “I hope your leads do indeed prove promising.”

“There is one thing,” Marcus said suddenly, as it looked as if Sabine was about to take her leave. “When we do find Trinia, what should we do with her? Is she to be delivered into the custody of the Korvosan Guard? Or directly to yourself, or the Queen?”

Sabine looked thoughtfully at Marcus for a moment before speaking. “I think that delivering her directly into the custody of Field Marshal Kroft would be … safest,” she answered, somewhat obscurely. She then quickly took her leave, before any of us could question her on her answer. I took note of it though. Safest? For whom, and against what eventuality exactly?

***

Our leaving was delayed somewhat, given Marcus’ excitement on the invitation to the coronation – and more importantly his wife’s reaction. In fact, I believe she almost forbid Marcus from doing anything else this afternoon but preparing for the coronation. As it was, he had to promise to return to the house in good time, and spend some time before we left penning notes to his parents, inviting other members of the family along too.

“It looks like we have leeway to invite a couple more people too,” commented Agon, reading the invitation over Marcus’ shoulder. He looked at me, his face split into a sly grin. “Tain, you should invite the ladies Delamore.”

I shook my head slightly, glancing at Marcus and Mari (she and Aria being present by this stage). “I don’t know that that would be appropriate,” I muttered. Although I could not deny that I was physically attracted to the young Lavinia Delamore, it seemed a betrayal of Talia’s memory to engage in a romance so soon.

“Talia has been gone these two years or more,” Marcus said gently, as if reading my mind. “And we have avenged her. Besides Tain, you’ve been entirely too grim and focused on honour and vengeance since … then. We all have to some degree I suppose, but we must move past it. I trust you’ll not ever forget Talia – but you must live your life.” Here he broke into a grin and slapped me on the back. “For the gods’ sake Tain, ask the woman to the ball!”

I smiled, nodded, and sat down to write a message of my own.

Tain’s Journal
The Taking of Trinia Sabore
Early afternoon the 5th of Calistril
Old Korvosa

I had envisaged us marching straight to Old Korvosa to find Trinia, but Marcus was still paranoid about movements to and from Brock House being watched or noted, and had us all leave in small groups, some by the back gate, with our normal clothes or heavy cloaks disguising our arms, armour and other equipment such as ropes and grapples. We were to make our way to Osric’s warehouse in Midlands, regroup and change there. The dwarven merchant had granted us the use of one of his wagons to take us from Midlands to Old Korvosa.

The wagon was driven by a pair of half-elven teamsters, who chatted quietly to Agon in the elven tongue during the short journey. I noticed Mari listening intently to the conversation; for myself, I do not know the language.

Soon enough the wagon’s wheels clattered across the cobbled main bridge into Old Korvosa, and it was time to put our approach into motion.

Agon had earlier proposed that Marcus, Mari and I openly enter the building and try to find Trinia, while he and Aria head around to the back to watch for any back doors or windows, should the young woman try to ‘do a runner’ as they say in the Guard. This was close to the approach we took, except that Mari (under the cover of a dark alley-mouth) used a spell to cloak herself in invisibility. She did the same for her cat, and sent the beast up onto the rooftops to watch. She then put her hand on my back as she followed behind, so we would have some idea of where she was.

The use of magic here on the street troubled me a little. Although we had all resolved to be supportive of Mari’s talents, and had spoken to her to encourage her in their use, my recent discussion of the Acadame had brought something to mind; the Acadamae like to see themselves as the one and final authority on magic in Korvosa, and do not much approve of mages without Acadamae training practising their craft in the city. Mari would need to be careful not to attract unwanted attention to herself.

The tenement building we approached was three stories high, with a stained and faded façade of small stone bricks and timber infill panels. The shuttered windows and size of the building indicated that there were probably between four and six small apartments per floor. While Agon and Aria hurried around to the back laneway, the three of us approached the front of the building, mounted the short flight of steps to the open front door and entered a somewhat dingy central corridor, that opened up into a narrow atrium, crossed by heavy beams, with an open flight of stairs leading to the upper levels. A balustraded corridor circled the atrium at each level gave access to the apartments.

Almost as soon as we entered the building, the nearest apartment front door on the ground level opened, and an older human woman poked her head out. “Hello,” she called warily to me (seeing as I was in the lead). “Who are you, and who are you looking for?”

Slightly taken aback by her bluntness, I answered truthfully (as my oath demanded) and warmly, trying to gain her trust. “Good afternoon,” I said. “My name is Tain, and I am looking for a young lady named Trinia Sabore. I was told she might be here – can you help me find her madame? We mean her no harm, and your help would be much appreciated.”

The old lady looked at me appraisingly for a moment, nodded, then looked upwards and shouted at the top of her lungs, “TRINIA! THEY’RE HERE FOR YOU!” She then stepped back into her room and slammed the door shut. A moment later we heard the tinkle of small bells ringing throughout the building, and noticed that there was a network of bells strung throughout the atrium, along the walls and up the stairs, all connected by lengths of fine twine.

Noting the direction the old lady had shouted, I immediately began running for the stairs. I heard Mari’s disembodied voice call, “Tain, wait for me!” as she followed me. Marcus meanwhile began hammering on the door to the old lady’s apartment. “Open up you old bat!” he shouted in frustration.

I had noticed that the building had no apparent back door (at least not from the central corridor), and that the network of bells extended up to the top floor. This suggested to me that Trinia then must be somewhere up there, and might try to escape through a window – perhaps across the Shingles. I raced up the stairway, taking two or three steps at a time, as Mari struggled to keep up behind me.

I reached the top floor and looked about. Six identical doors stood closed onto the corridor. There was an open window at either end, one looking out onto Fort Korvosa Boulevard, the other onto the back lane. I ran over to the rear window and looked down into the lane, but saw no sign of Trinia – nor of Agon or Aria. There did not appear to be any external stair to the building (as you sometimes see, for emergency fire egress), although the building adjoining this one seemed to have one. I tried to listen for any movement, but could hear only what sounded like quiet muttering or chanting from Mari. Then, I heard her voice clearly at my shoulder.

“Tain! My spell … Trinia is behind that door.”

“Which door? Mari, I can’t see you point!”

“The door right beside you – on your left.”

I quickly stepped over to try the door that Mari had indicated. It was firmly locked. I took a step back, then charged with my shoulder against the door. I heard and felt something splinter and give slightly, but the door would still not open. “Marcus! Up here!” I shouted, and charged the door again. Again, timber cracked as both the door and its frame started to give, but it held still.

“Tain!” I heard Mari’s voice again.

“Not now Mari – I know what I’m doing.” I prepared to hit the door again.

“But Tain - ”

I smashed against the door again. This time the frame splintered around the lock, the damaged door swung open and I stumbled into the small apartment beyond. I noticed an open window, and also a bed, with a blonde haired figure lying within, apparently asleep … or …

“Be careful Mari,” I called softly back to the seemingly empty corridor. I could hear Marcus clattering up the stairs. “Something doesn’t look right here …”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” came Mari’s exasperated voice, now within the room. “She’s not in here. My spell tells me she’s moving … still nearby, above – on the roof! That must be a dummy or an illusion in the bed.”

I ran over to the window. There was a narrow ledge below, and it looked possible to pull oneself up over the roof parapet just above from there. I was not confident that I would be able to give chase across the Shingles, at least not quickly enough to keep up with the probably nimble girl, but I had to try.

I climbed out onto the ledge, the hauled myself up onto the roof. When I got up there, I realised that I would not need to give chase after all; there, a dozen feet away, stood Aria and Agon, with a slight blonde woman lying at their feet, a net tangled about the lower part of her legs.

Agon looked over and flashed me a grin. “Fire escape!” he called, indicating the next building with a nod of his head. “We had a feeling she might try to do a runner up this way. When we heard the commotion inside, we knew to be on the lookout.”

I made my way over and clapped Agon on the shoulder. Aria was bending down clapping a manacle about the apparently unconscious woman’s wrist. I looked into the sleeping face – it was Trinia, or at least it very closely resembled the portrait we had seen of her.

“Ari hit her with a spell,” Agon continued. “It dazed her or something.”

“She’ll come around in a moment,” Aria spoke up, and indeed the woman’s closed eye lids were beginning to flutter. She opened her eyes, looked about, dazed, confused and scared. Then her gaze settled on Agon’s face, and a saw a clear look of recognition and betrayal pass her features.

“Agon! Why are you doing this?” Trinia spoke in a familiar and pleading tone to the Guardsman. “You said you’d protect me! You said you wouldn’t let them take me!”

Tain’s Journal
A few questions
Early afternoon the 5th of Calistril
Old Korvosa

“What?” I asked sternly, looking to Agon.

“What?” Agon exclaimed, looking at Trinia. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“How can you say that Agon?” Trinia asked, looking genuinely hurt and shocked. “After all the time we’ve spent together? After your promises to me? After I shared my bed with you?”

“Now hold on,” said Agon, “I’d remember – oh damn it! Felix …” He hit his forehead with the palm of his hand and turned to Aria and I. “I honestly have not seen this woman before … I, uh, think Felix has been impersonating me …”

He turned back to Trinia. “Perhaps you’ve heard this before, but I am honest when I say, it wasn’t me. It was my twin brother.”

Trinia’s eyes blazed in anger, and she looked about to retort, when Aria touched her lightly on the arm and she slumped once again into unconsciousness.

“I can’t keep doing that indefinitely,” warned the cleric. “We need to move her off this rooftop.”

“Yes, and quickly, before we run into Felix,” suggested Agon. “Or someone worse.” He scanned the skyline and added darkly, “I wouldn’t wonder if there were people in this city who would see her dead before trial. We need to get her to the Field Marshal as quickly as possible.”

“Not so quickly,” countered Aria. “I’d like to question her first.”

“And determine she’s innocent and let her go?” Agon asked, then shook his head. “We can’t do that Ari.”

“Of course we can’t,” I agreed. “Process must be followed. We’ll deliver her to the Field Marshal’s custody. But I agree with Aria, I would like to question her first, discover her side of the tale. We may not get a chance to speak to her again before her trial.”

“Let’s get her back into her room,” Aria suggested.

Together, and with the help of Mari and Marcus (who had gained the room and slid a heavy wardrobe in front of the broken door to give us some privacy), we manhandled Trinia back in through her window

Aria began casting a spell. “What are you doing?” Agon asked. The cleric ignored him until she had finished her prayer. “I’ve created a zone of truth within this room,” she said after a moment. “She will not be able to lie - not easily anyway.”

“Does that apply to the rest of us?” asked Agon.

“Yes,” Aria replied. “Now, have any questions ready. She will come around again in a moment, and the zone of truth will not last for long.”

Indeed Trinia was beginning to gain consciousness again. Before she could resume where she left off with Agon, I knelt down in front of the chair we had placed her in. “Trinia Sabore, I am Tain Locus of the church of Abadar. Please answer my questions honestly.”

She looked at my, scared but defiant for a moment, then looked about, taking in her situation and seemed to shrink slightly. She nodded.

“Did you kill King Eodred?” I asked.

“No! I did not!” was her forceful reply. “I would never do something like that!”

“The queen seems to think you did,” I said. “Do you have any idea why she might?”

“I don - … well, I think maybe she was jealous of me. Her relationship with Eodred had deteriorated and I, I was spending a lot of time with him.”

The true extent of Trinia and Eodred’s relationship did not seem relevant - only what Ileosa thought of it. I did not wish to embarrass the girl by forcing the issue in this setting.

“Do you know how to get or make poisons?” asked Agon. Trinia looked at him. “Why are you doing this?” she asked again.

“Look honey, it really wasn’t me you were with before,” Agon said, looking at her straight. “It was my brother, Felix.”

Trinia looked about at the rest of us for confirmation. “He does indeed have an identical twin brother,” I said, nodding. “And it would not surprise me at all that Felix would do something like this.”

“But … he had a Guard uniform and a badge and everything …” said Trinia in a small voice.

I glanced up at Agon, frowning slightly. Agon was frowning too. “Dammit,” he muttered. “He’s getting better than me at this stuff.” He turned back to Trinia. “Anyway. Poisons?”

Trinia shook her head. “No, I don’t know the first thing about poison.”

“Would you have had the opportunity to poison the King?” I asked.

“I just told you, I didn’t kill him and I don’t know about poisons!” Trinia exclaimed.

“That’s not what I asked,” I said calmly. My tone seemed to take the wind out of her sails. She sighed. “Yes, I suppose so,” she said. “I didn’t do it of course, but yes, I brought him his meals sometimes.” She looked at me, defiant again. “But there are plenty of other people in the Castle who had access to his food too. And others who might have had more to gain from his death than I did!”

Agon and I looked at each other. We could both think of one person who had both opportunity and possibly the most to gain from Eodred’s death; Ileosa.

There came a knock at the broken and barricaded door. “Trinia?” a man’s voice called. “Are you alright?”

Marcus hurried over to the door and looked through a crack between the wardrobe and the door frame. “There’s quite a few people out there,” he whispered back to us.

“I’ll handle it,” I said, as whoever was outside began banging on the door again, harder this time.

As I moved over to the door, Aria and Agon began asking Trinia about her relationship with Ileosa. They had known each other since they were girls, Trinia said, and had been friends, but the Queen had changed in the last few months, becoming somewhat cold, controlling, short tempered. Trinia didn’t seem to know what had sparked the change.

I peered through the crack. The people outside - a small crowd of about a dozen - looked like locals, probably residents of the building. A few carried knives or makeshift clubs. They were calling out to be let in, and were trying to force the door.

“Step away from the door,” I called loudly, “on authority of the Church of Abadar.”

This stopped them. They stepped back away from the door, whispering amongst themselves, until one called out, “Yeah? How do we know that?”

I looked back to where the others stood around Trinia. “We need to get her out of here,” I said.

“Preferably unseen,” Agon added.

“I can make her invisible,” came Mari’s voice, startling us.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Aria. “Making the person we’re taking into custody invisible? It’s only going to make it easier for her if she tries to escape!”

“You want to get her out unseen,” replied Mari’s voice, “this will do it. Just hold on to her, make sure she doesn’t get away.”

“Whatever you are doing, get her out of sight right now,” I said. The crowd outside was growing bold again, moving back towards the door.

“Step back!” I warned, then heaved aside the wardrobe and let the broken door fall party open, affording the crowd a view of me - with my flail firmly in hand - but not much of the rest of the room. “I am a paladin of Abadar,” I said, “and you will not get into this room without going through me.”

Behind the crowd there came the noise of hasty footsteps coming up the stairs. “What’s going on here?” asked a familiar voice. “Is Trinia alright?” Pushing through the crowd there came Agon - or rather, Felix, clad in the uniform of the Korvosan Guard. He looked up and saw me, and his mouth dropped open.

“Oh sh*t,” said Felix.

Tain’s Journal
Mid afternoon, the 5th of Calistril

“What’s going on here Felix?” I asked. “Why did you not tell us you knew where Trinia was?”

Felix sneered and shrugged. “Why would I?” he said.

I frowned, and tightened my grip on my flail. Before I could act, Agon hurried up behind me. “Tain, let me handle this,” he murmured. “Please.”

I nodded briefly and turned back into the room. Had I stayed talking to Felix I may have done something hasty, despite my friendship with Agon.

In the room, out of sight from the doorway, Aria and Marcus were standing oddly, a few feet apart. “I made Trinia invisible,” whispered Mari’s voice beside me. “Ari and Marcus have her. We can get her out of here unseen that way.” I nodded, and took Marcus’s place holding onto Trinia’s arm. “Don’t make any noise until we’re out of here,” I warned her in a low voice.

“Please,” she whispered. “Didn’t you believe me? I didn’t do it. Please let me go.”

“I do believe you,” I said. “But it is my duty to see you brought to trial. If I can, I will speak on your behalf there. Miss Sabore, if you run, or if we let you go, you will not be proved innocent. You will be on the run for the res of your life - or until you are caught.”

Trinia said nothing. I don’t know whether she saw sense in what I said, or merely felt defeat.

A few minutes later Agon returned. Felix had hurried off down the stairs, and the crowd of tenants were beginning to disperse, having seen no sign of Trinia inside, only several armed men and women. “I told him that Trinia did a runner across the Shingles. Asked him if he knew where she might have gone - he claimed he didn’t, but he’s gone to ask Bloody Finch. Finch knew she was here too.” Agon threw his hands up in front of him. “I know, I know, I’m going to have a serious talk with both of them before this is over. But for now we need to get Trinia to Kroft. I suggest we go quickly, now, and try to hail a cab. There may be those who would prefer that Trinia doesn’t get to safe custody and trial.”

We got out of the building without further incident and hurried towards the bridge, intending to find a carraige once we were on the other side. Marcus had been quiet and thoughtful for the past ten minutes or so, but spoke up now. “You go ahead - I’m sure you can handle things. I need to see Vencarlo Orisini about something. I’ll see you either at Brock House or at the coronation.” Marcus smiled to forestall our questions or protests. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there. Cristiana will kill me if I’m not.” Assuring us that he’d be fine, Marcus strode off into Old Korvosa. The rest of us hurried across the bridge and soon found a cab. We all got in (with Trinia, still invisible, squeezed between Aria and Agon) and set off for Citadel Volshyenek.

As the carriage bounced along the cobbled streets, Mari (finally visible) leaned towards me. “She seems like a sweet girl,” Mari whispered. I nodded. Actually, Trinia reminded me somewhat of Mari. Both were petite blondes, both were very pretty, and both were very passionate.

“You don’t think she did it,” Mari continued. It was not phrased as a question. “Why do we have to hand her over to the Kroft? I have a bad feeling about that.”

“We were ordered to,” I answered. “Besides, Field Marshal Kroft has always struck me as honourable and lawful. I trust that she will see Trinia is kept safe to her trial, and do her best to ensure that the trial is fair.”

“Yes, she’s very mindful of the law - and the chain of command,” answered Mari. “So what if she’s ordered to see that things aren’t safe or fair? Tain, I know you believe in the law, but you believe in doing the right thing too. What if we’re not doing that here?”

“Mari, we can’t just let her go,” I whispered.

“I know,” said Mari. “But we don’t have to hand her over to Kroft. Can’t we … I don’t know, hang on to her for a bit? Until we can figure things out? We could protect her.”

“Well …” The problem with Mari is that she is very hard to say no to. “Sabine didn’t actually order us to hand Trinia into the Field Marshal’s custody … she merely suggested that that would be safest … I suppose …”

“Don’t even think about it Tain,” Agon whispered harshly, leaning forward towards us. He’d obviously been listening in. “Safest. What if Sabine was warning us of something? Like I said, there may be those who don’t want Trinia to get to trial. We can’t protect her as well as Kroft can. Besides, what if she escapes from us? I wouldn’t want to have to explain that to the Queen.”

I sighed. “Agon’s right,” I said. “Sorry Mari, but we’re going to deliver her to the Field Marshal.”

Tain’s Journal
The Coronation
Evening, the 5th of Calistril
Castle Korvosa

The celebration prior to the coronation was going well.

We had delivered Trinia to Field Marshal Kroft personally, gaining assurances from her that Trinia would be well treated, and that we would be kept informed of any information on her trial. Kroft had even confided that she too suspected Trinia was innocent. She had also delivered a reward for capturing the woman. We had returned to Brock House with enough time to prepare ourselves for the coronation.

The others mingled and talked in the ballroom of Castle Korvosa, as we waited for the actual coronation to take place. I saw Marcus (who had not disappointed his wife by missing the coronation) in a deep discussion with Lord Haytham Bannyer and later with Ambassador Amprei; Aria was chatting with the High Priestess of Shelyn; Mari was with her parents and Lady Cristiana, looking like she was trying to avoid someone (most likely her intended, Orlando Ornelos); Agon, in his Guard dress uniform, was looking about the room as if looking for someone. For my part, I was walking the room with Lavinia Delamore and her mother. I did notice that Peryarv Lagren was not in attendance.

After some time, the deep voice of Archbanker Tuttle rang out across the room, calling everyone to order – the official part of the ceremony was about to begin. Ushers and pages hurried about the room, helping everyone to their places. I found myself standing about two rows back from the front of the room, next to Aria.

“I found out something more about the Hellknights,” she whispered to me as we waited for the Queen to emerge onto the stage. “They’re guarding against some type of plague that has broken out in that part of Old Korvosa.” Before I could answer, the herald on the stage announced the Queen.

The ceremony unfolded as tradition dictated, presided over by Archbanker Tuttle, attended by the high priests of Asmodeous, Pharasma and Shelyn. Ileosa stood, attentive throughout, flanked by Lady Elizabeth and Sabine Merrin. At last, the ceremony drew to a close, with the Archbanker placing the crown atop the Queen’s brow. As he stood, holding the crown above her head, speaking the final words of the ceremony, I felt a strange feeling of unease pass over me. There was a ripple of the crowd, a murmur – it seemed others had felt it too. Beside me, Aria’s face had gone paler than normal, and she put a hand to her temple, looking about. It appeared that she had felt something more than I had.

The crown descended onto Ileosa’s head, and as quickly as it had begun, the felling passed. There was a moment of silence, then the Queen smiled, someone in the crowd began to clap, and that became a round of applause and cheers.

Musicians began to play a dancing tune, and the the crowd spread out, the Queen and her retainers stepping down from the platform to mingle.

“What was that Aria?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t know what it was,” Aria answered. “But it was the same presence I felt outside Lamm’s warehouse that night, and again at the Harrower’s house. You felt it too Mari?” This last was directed at her cousin, who had joined us.

“Yes,” the girl answered. “The same thing. But this time it appears that others felt something too, if not as intensely.”

The celebratory atmosphere made such grim talk hard to continue, and soon we were caught up in the dancing and festivities. During a turn on the dancefloor with Lavinia, I spotted Agon speaking to the Queen – it looked like he was asking her to dance! Apparently his offer was rejected, but I soon saw him dancing with Sabine instead. I shook my head, smiling.

After a second dance, I noticed Mari standing looking very uncomfortable in the presence of Orlando and an older woman, obviously his mother Ophelia. I decided to come to her rescue, making my apologies to Lavinia, then going over to ask Mari to dance. Of course, she could not refuse so polite a request from her brother in law, and thanked me as we danced away from unpleasant company.

We found ourselves dancing not far from where the Queen stood, not dancing herself, but surveying the floor with a smile, Lady Elizabeth by her side.

All of a sudden there came a scream, and two armoured guards who were standing by an entrance to an upper balcony overlooking the ballroom crashed to the floor, blood pooling around them. Behind them stood three black-clad men, their faces masked, holding aloft daggers. There appearance put me immediately in mind of the infamous vigilante Blackjack.

“The false queen must die!” shouted the leader, and then all three threw their daggers down, towards the Queen.

Before I heard the shout, I was already moving. I pushed Mari away, spun and ran for the Queen, trying to place my body between her and the masked intruders – and their knives. Dressed for the coronation I was wearing no armour, my flesh would have to be her shield.

I pushed other guests aside, sprinting forward, and with almost superhuman effort I managed to leap in front of the queen as the daggers tumbled through the air. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mari’s hands raised in what appeared to be spellcasting.

I felt the disturbarnce of the air as the daggers flashed past me. I had been close, but I must not have been close enough! “No!” I yelled in frustration, and turned, expecting to see the Queen pierced by the knives. But I saw instead, that I had managed to leap directly in front of the Queen – only the daggers were not aimed at her. All three had hit Lady Elizabeth in the chest. She stood with a look of shocked surprise on her face as the bodice of her gown darkened with blood … then she tumbled slowly to the floor.

Awesome write up Moth! :D

Awesome write up Moth! :D

Thanks mate.

For those reading along at home, that brings us pretty much to the end of Session 8, and the end of Part 1: Edge of Anarchy (apart from Aria’s frantic efforts to save Lady Elizabeth).

I’m sure that Mister Deparle will also be adding his point of view soon enough.

My next entry or two will focus on the wrap up to that session and the follow up events that took place between the end of session 8 and the start of session 9.

After that, I’ll start writing up the session from Friday night – the beginning of Part 2: Seven Days to the Grave!

I can't wait to read them myself and I was there! :D

Wow!! I did not see this coming at all! Even though I read the entire campaign, I feel completely clueless about what's going on. :)

Well, ok... Mostly clueless. ;)

Very nicely written, Tain!

Wow!! I did not see this coming at all! Even though I read the entire campaign, I feel completely clueless about what's going on. :)

Well, ok... Mostly clueless. ;)

Very nicely written, Tain!

Moonbeam, I have seen you are watching with particular attention everything about CotCT... are you still planning to play it before or later and, I hope, to write down a story hour?

Very quickly, in response to the question about Half-Elves being immune to sleep spells. Half-Elves get a bonus to resist them. Agon was able to include that bonus in resisting the sleep-style spell, but it was not enough. I don't know if it was exactly like a sleep spell or if it was something unique; currently I am enjoying playing a warrior-type who knows little to nothing about magic. To help me role-play this well as a player I am deliberately blinding myself to how the system works or what it entails regarding magic. This was I can happily role-play out my character's ignorance and just take in the 'kewl' effects as described by fellow players and the GM.

From the Journal of Agon Deparle

5th of Calistril
Winter in Korvosa
Early Morning on Coronation Day for Queen Ileosa

I rose before first light, in that chilly time when the sky is at its darkest and no-one sane wants to move from their warm beds. It had been a long night filled with thought and the laying of plans, but I needed to get moving; I needed to put things in place I would require later that day; and while the guest quarters at Brock House were a credit to the style and class of the Merivanchi Family, I could not let indulgence stand in the way of what I needed to do.

I made little noise as I woke and dressed, silencing any sound from my armour with layers of cloth. I had done these actions many times in the cold Borderlands of the north where sharp senses and quiet movements were the necessary elements of any long life. The ears I wished not to disturb that morning were not the sharp ears of Shoanti warriors, but the delicate city-bred ears of the Merivanchi Family; ostensibly my allies, but in no real need to know the purpose of my journey that morning.

The events of the rescue of Yasmin Marcella, so dramatically played out night before, had opened my eyes somewhat and caused within me a revelation of thought. At the slave auction centre of the House Arkona I had seen the city’s elite mixing freely with the city’s underworld, and indeed with the poorer elements of the citizenry itself. The vast majority of the ‘slaves’ present were simply the victims of poor economic circumstances who, being weak of will, had chosen a life of slavery as a way to end their bad debts. What was the point of the Korvosan Guard pursuing an anti-slavery policy when the sheep of the citizenry used that very slave-trade as an element of their economic life?

Oh, I still believed most strongly in the sovereignty of Korvosa, its city and its region, and as such would always serve where I could in the establishment of the military security of the city-state, but I struggled now to see the point in putting myself out to maintain a civil order that served only, at its end, as a way to shore up the rich and powerful. The mercenary side of my soul, born and bred from my parentage and upbringing in the mercenary camps of the Borderlands, now rose to the fore; to put it poetically, the wolf I was could no longer run with the dogs.

I admit that I was most likely reacting in part to my shameful defeat the previous night at the hands of Peryarv Lagren – wizard, Councilor of Magnimar, and a leader in the city’s Grey Wars. His magic had overwhelmed me so comprehensively and with such speed that I felt profound embarrassment; my companions had to remove my unconscious sleeping body from the scene! I had failed them and failed myself. That anger, I am sure, clouded my judgement.

But nevertheless, the life of a simple officer of the Guard no longer seemed even slightly attractive. This had been coming for a while, ever since I had been taken from war-fighting duties and shackled to this role of law-enforcement. I would not simply be an officer of the Guard. There was more now available to me, if only I could take advantage of this tide in the affairs around me, and through action and Will, achieve the position and wealth I desired.

For some time now, the scions of the Merivanchi House and their allies – of which I was one – had been sitting on the request of Queen Ileosa to bring in the woman she had accused of murdering her husband. We had all sat on this, doing nothing, because we firmly believed that Trinia Sabor, the accused, was merely a patsy. While the others, loyal to the crown due to feelings of kinship or an adherence to society’s established rules, had not yet given voice to any suspicions that Queen Ileosa was herself implicated in the death of the late husband, I had formed this opinion some days previously. I had no intrinsic desire to aid any murderer or usurper.

However, this was a (possible) murderer and usurper who could reward me should I aid her. In the face of my newfound despondence regarding the Guard, I realised I had no problem in sacrificing Trinia Sabor if doing so bought my position and favour with the most powerful woman in the land. I had resolved myself – if Trinia Sabor was a patsy, then I would happily be her executioner; better her than me.

With these dark thoughts in mind, I slipped quietly from Brock House. None heard me depart. I left the door to the guest chambers closed and slipped out a window, climbing as easily down the wall as easily I had up and down the trees and gorges of the Borderlands in my youth. The cold of pre-dawn bit into my skin, but risking a light jog once I had turned the corner from Brock House, I soon warmed with exercise. The night is never so cold and so dark once one has something to do; it is a lesson every soldier knows, and they know just as well that still silence is all-too often a boon companion to the imaginative terrors of the night and the dark.

In the Heights, street lights kept the dark at bay, but soon I crossed into the Midlands. Lacking the wealthy inhabitants of the Heights, this area of the city was more prone to darkness and the crime that accompanied it. But in this witching hour of first light to dawn, the nightside of the city took itself to bed, crawling into safe havens from the light of day. I moved quickly through the streets at a light jog, ignoring those I saw and knowing they would likewise ignore me. I had not worn my Guard’s uniform last night and traveled now dressed much like the city’s criminal underclass, in dark clothes with a small sword at my side – for traveling unarmed was never wise in Korvosa during those days.

Korvosa was just beginning to stir as I crossed the city. The bakers had been up for hours, plying their trade in the semi-darkness of their kitchens. Labourers gathered at construction sites to begin their day’s hard work. And along the docks sailors readied their ships to move off on the morning tide. Voices traveled easily in the cold and semi-darkness, and as I jogged I heard snatches of morning conversations as people prepared themselves for the day. Sleep would last longer for the Merivanchi Family – the nobility could often enjoy a sleep in while the underclass did their work for them.

I arrived at Osric’s warehouse with little trouble, panting slightly for breath, but unmolested and having made good time. I banged loudly on the door, not stopping until I was answered; I did not recognise the face in the peep-slot that opened in the doors, but he looked young; no doubt one of Osric’s orphans, recently given a home with the merchant-cum-assassin after we disposed of Gordon Lamm.

“Who are you?”

“Felix,” I replied, giving my twin brother’s name, who I knew was a more habitual visitor to Osric than myself. “Open up.”

“Password?”

“Open the door, maggot, or I’ll knock it down and cut your face off.” I waved a knife in front of the peep-slot.

“Close enough.”

The door opened, revealing a lad of no more than sixteen summers. He had an arrogant look in his eye and fingered a dagger at his belt. Without hesitation I punched him in the face, knocked him to the floor, and walked on.

“First rule, boy,” I said, “is to know who you can push around and who you can’t. Learn it fast.”

The boy stayed on the floor, rubbing his chin. Smart lad; had he made an issue of it, I was in the mood to have killed him outright.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?” roared Osric, coming down the stairs from his loft, wrapping a gown around his otherwise naked body. He cradled a loaded crossbow under one arm and looked ready to use it.

I held up my hands.

“It’s only me.”

Osric stared for a moment, lowering the crossbow.

“Agon,” he grunted. “Why are you here?”

“Private business,” I replied, folding my arms across my chest.

Osric nodded for me to follow him, leading me into his office. I shut the door and locked it. Osric sat behind his desk, placing his crossbow, still loaded, within easy reach. It was so nice to be trusted.

“How’d you know it was me, and not Felix?” I began.

“Your brother doesn’t wear chainmail. You hide it under your clothing, but it can be seen if you know what to look for, and I’m an armoursmith, remember?”

I nodded. Osric made a valid point. I would have to start arming and equipping myself identically to Felix if we were to continue carrying on our “it wasn’t me, it was my twin brother” chicanery.

“Now lad,” Osric prompted. “What’s this all about?”

“We won’t be overheard?”

“No,” he replied. “This office is as secure as it gets.”

“Good.” I could hear no eavesdroppers and Osric seemed to be speaking the truth. I leaned in closer. “Long story short, Osric: I’ll need to source some poisoned arrows for a job.”

Osric nodded, understanding my meaning.

“What’s the job?” he asked. “Now lad,” he said, holding up his hands, “I don’t need to know who or why, but if you give me the basics of your plan for the hit, that’ll help me help you.”

It sounded fair to me. It was good to know Osric was professional about this.

“The inside man of a bodyguard team does the hit. As far as everyone knows he’s providing covering fire. One of the arrows goes astray and hits the target. The arrow is poisoned. End of target. Make sense?”

“When?”

“I’ll need it by later this morning.”

“That will be difficult,” Osric replied. “The best I can do won’t be a one-hit job. The target will need to be hit twice to be sure.”

‘That will do.”

“I’ll make the arrangements then.” Osric stood and held out his hand. “And payment?”

“I’ll owe you,” I said, taking his hand in affirmation of the deal.

“Very well,” Osric said, smiling, “Officer Deparle. We have a deal.”

I left more discretely than I came in, wrapping a borrowed cloak against the cold and walking quietly through the streets towards the castle-palace. As I walked it occurred t me that I, a member of the Korvosan Guard, had just made an arrangement with one of the city’s criminals to procure an illegal item for the purpose of committing a murder; and to seal the deal was an implied promise that I would use my position within the Guard for the furtherance of other criminal enterprises. In theory, I could now be tried and convicted of attempted murder and corruption. In practise, I couldn’t have cared less.

*

From the Journal of Agon Deparle

5th of Calistril
Winter in Korvosa
Dawn on the morning of the Coronation Day for Queen Ileosa

I arrived at the castle-palace just after dawn. The servants had obviously been busy for several hours for the castle looked fully active as staff proceeded to get on with the day’s activities taking blissful advantage of the lack of nobility; bureaucracy always runs itself remarkably well when it can ignore its political masters.

The castle guard halted me with crossed pikes at the gate.

“State your business, Half-Elf.”

“Agon Deparle: here to speak to Sabine Merrin.”

“Ms Merrin doesn’t speak to the likes of you,” the guard sneered. “Bugger off.”

“Listen closely, Private. Sabine tasked me personally with certain duties; duties of great importance which I am not at liberty to discuss with you.” The guard was clearly taken aback at my icy professional tone. “And if you wish to avoid the certain punishment that will befall you should you turn me away, I suggest you inform Sabine that ‘Agon is here to talk with her’, and that you do so immediately.”

That should do the trick – there’s nothing like talking like an educated officer to confuse, bamboozle and influence a ranker soldier. I read the hesitation clearly in the guard’s face… curiousity mixed with self-preservation won the day. I was shown to a simply furnished waiting room while someone fetched Sabine.

Despite the early hour of the morning I did not have to wait long; and, like the dawning of the sun just outside, my world was brightened as Sabine entered the room.

She was dressed in simple clothes – a long crimson shirt belted over brown linen pants with soft leather boots. Warrior that Sabine was, she wore her hand-and-a-half sword in a scabbard over her shoulder. Her hair was still wet, and hung disheveled over her shoulder forming damp patches on her shirt. An enchanting and subtly intoxicating perfume hung about her; and aside from its delightful scent, the very fact that she had paused to apply it before seeing me made my smile at seeing her grow even wider.

“Agon,” she began; a smile of her own forming at the corner of her mouth, “I would not have expected to see you so early. What news?”

“News best spoken of in private.”

“Then follow me.”

She turned and led the way through the castle.

“With pleasure,” I said softly, noting the lovely way her hips and backside rolled as she walked. I saw Sabine tilt her head in response, and then shake it in a slight chuckle. In a few minutes we had climbed one of towers to its roof viewing level. Sabine dismissed the guard keeping watch. We waited for a few minutes for the guard to move away back down the stairs. The dawn sun, having risen over the hills in the Eastern distance, shone over the city. The sun’s light bathed the city in a soft glow that seemed to wash away the filth, the crime and the danger of the streets leaving only beauty and hope. It was an amazing sight.

Sabine leaned over the battlements, with the wind plucking softly at her hair.

“So lovely…” she said quietly. “I never get tired of looking at it.”

“I know what you mean,” I replied. Sabine turned to find that I was neither looking, nor speaking of, the view of the city. She blushed and looked away, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Now Agon,” she said, raising her eyes to look directly at me, “there was something you wanted to tell me?”

The dawn’s light was gently waking the city; I stood alone at the top of a castle tower with the most beautiful woman I had ever known… At first, I could do nothing but take a breath and try to burn the image into my memory. Sabine saw that she had made me just a little uncomfortable, exactly as I had previously made her a little uncomfortable; of such moments were made the little flirtatious dances that were the most delightful part of any genuine courtship; and as much as that was what I wanted to share with this beautiful amazing woman, it was not what I was there to do. With some effort I drew my attention back to the dark business at hand. Sabine saw the shadow of black thoughts cross my face, and in turn I saw her eyes cloud over and the bewitching smile fell from her lips.

“It was some time ago, Sabine, that myself and the scions of the Merivanchi House were asked to bring in Trinia Sabor.”

“Go on, Agon.”

“In all likelihood, myself and the others will be able to bring her into custody very soon.”

“That is good to know,” Sabine replied. “I shall tell Her Majesty.”

“Before you do, Sabine, I would seek some … clarification.”

“Go on,” she said, giving away nothing.

“If we are alone up here, I shall speak plainly.”

I wanted to be sure.

“We are alone, Agon.”

“From what I and the others have been able to establish in our investigations, Trinia Sabor seems like a patsy more than an assassin; but from the way Queen Ileosa and Lady Elizabeth presented this request, Trinia’s guilt or innocence didn’t really seem to matter.”

I paused, believing I would get a response from this rather inflammatory remark. Sabine said nothing, simply standing with her arms folded waiting for me to continue.

“And I got the distinct impression that a fair and impartial trial was not really what the Queen and Lady Elizabeth had in mind. If that is truly the case, and it would be better for the throne if Trinia never saw trial, then let me know now and I’ll see to it that an … accident happens to Trinia during the arrest.”

“Why Agon,” Sabine said with a smirk, “I never thought you could be so … cold.”

“I can be lots of things, dear Sabine, when I need to be.”

“So I see,” she said. Sabine leant against the wall, appraising me, trying to ascertain if I was being honest in what I said, that I would be prepared to kill an innocent woman for the sake of the throne. After a few moments, the noises of the waking city rising up to fill the silence, Sabine came to her decision.

“Thank you for the offer, Agon, but I can assure you that Queen Ileosa does not wish for Trinia Sabor to be killed ‘resisting arrest’. The best thing for everyone would be to make sure she’s delivered safe and unharmed to Field Marshall Croft.”

“If that is your wish, Sabine,” I replied.

“It is.”

“Then I shall see it done,” I said with resolve. “But I admit to being a little curious. I got the impression that you wanted her … removed.”

Sabine frowned, and I got the feeling that the frown was not directed at me.

“Not I, Agon,” she confessed. “Lady Elizabeth and I have … different beliefs as to royal policy.”

“Meaning she wants Trinia whacked and you don’t?”

“Ha ha hah,” she laughed. “Yes, Agon, that’s what I mean.” She paused and sighed. “I don’t know why Elizabeth has such a hold over Her Majesty; it’s downright unnatural…. Oh the gods! I shouldn’t have said that.”

Sabine clutched at her stomach and covered her mouth with her other hand in shock. She had revealed her most private thoughts about the people she was sworn to protect at all costs. To allow herself to become so vulnerable as to give voice to such indiscretion, to let her guard down so much was horrifying to her; and her heart hung in her mouth, fearful in anticipation what I would do with such knowledge.

I smiled as reassuringly as I could, trying to let her know I would not betray her confidence.

“Forget it, Sabine. Let’s just say the words were caught in the wind.”

She looked away, and then back at me suddenly. Her lapse in professionalism could not be so easily forgotten.

“I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Before I could stop her, she had disappeared down the stairs and into stony depths of the castle, leaving me alone with so many thoughts, and the world of my mind now dominated by matters of the heart between two young people, and the politics of the city’s power elite.

*

I'm constantly amazed at the amount of details in this journal. It's like reading a novel... truly excellent.
The characters are very interesting. Tain and the Meravanchis are quite lovable. I like the relationship between Felix and Agon. Osric is also very interesting even though he's not present as often as the others.
They are all very "believable" characters... Role-played with subtlety rather than as stereotypes.

Moonbeam, I have seen you are watching with particular attention everything about CotCT... are you still planning to play it before or later and, I hope, to write down a story hour?

Hi Sneaky ;)

I'm very tempted to write about Curse of the Crimson Throne. It's my favorite AP so far. The story is excellent, and the background of Korvosa is so detailed, vibrant and atmospheric that it would be a true pleasure to create my own version of it. The only question is time. It would take such a huge amount of time to write that story. I'm afraid of that colossal amount of work.

Lately, I've been writing about my party's misadventures in "The Hangman's Noose" by Nicolas Logue... It should appear on this board in the near future. ;)

I'm very tempted to write about Curse of the Crimson Throne....

Lately, I've been writing about my party's misadventures in "The Hangman's Noose" by Nicolas Logue... It should appear on this board in the near future. ;)

Fantastic, here you could find my italian translation of your RotR wonderful story. Something is changed but not very much...

Moonbeam story italian

O M G !!!!!
I don't want to hijack this CotCT thread, but I will comment in my Runelords ones.

Tain’s Journal
Anarchy passes …
The 7th of Calistril

Word from Castle Korvosa is that Lady Elizabeth’s condition is improving, and that she is expected to make a full recovery. In all likelihood this has a lot to do with Aria – she was the first to Elizabeth’s side, and her quick application of first aid and healing kept the woman from slipping into Pharasma’s grasp before the senior clerics in the room could get to her.

Something troubles me though. Aria confided in us later that as she worked on Lady Elizabeth, who lay near death, she again felt the disturbing presence about her. Only when she brought Elizabeth back from the death’s grasp did the presence fade.

‘Blackjack’ (if it was indeed him) and his accomplices managed to escape from the Castle in the confusion – the Castle Guard (and Agon, who made a concentrated effort) were prevented from reaching them by the crush of the panicked crowd. It seems that Castle Korvosa was not the only place Blackjack visited that night. The following morning, when the guards at Citadel Volshyenek checked Trinia Sabore’s cell, they found it empty apart from a playing card lying on the floor - the Jack of Clubs, Blackjack’s symbol.

Later in the day, street criers announced that the villain known as Blackjack had attempted to assassinate the Queen. Although the attempt had failed, three guards were killed, and Lady Elizabeth was gravely injured. The Crown was offering a bounty of 10,000 gold sails for the head of Blackjack. The wording of this announcement troubled me somewhat, given that it implied a man who’s true identity was unknown was wanted dead. I grimly predicted a spate of bounty hunters turning up with corpses wearing black masks. The higher-ups in the church of Abadar obviously shared these concerns, as earlier today we were all briefed that the capture of Blackjack had become the church’s top priority. It was stressed that all effort should be made to take him alive, and that no reward would be paid if proof of identity could not be established. I understood that the Korvosan Guard were similarly briefed.

Despite the talk of Blackjack, things appear to be returning to normal in the city. There have been no signs of further large-scale civil unrest, ships have begun to return to the city docks, and food prices are dropping, with supplies of essentials returning to normal. Rumours are rife about Sabine Merrin, some suggesting that she was derelict in her duty, others even suggesting that she was in league with Blackjack. As far as I have heard though, the Queen is sticking by her chief bodyguard, and she currently retains the position.

The 17th of Calistril

Work has consumed most of my time in the almost two weeks since Queen Ileosa’s coronation. The frequent sightings and rumours of Blackjack have kept the city’s law enforcement bodies busy. ‘Blackjack’ has been sighted all over the city, engaged in a variety of activities, some seemingly noble if perhaps misguided (such as diverting one of the earlier food shipments to arrive in the city so that it reached a poor neighbourhood before a richer one), some villainous (there have been several accounts of ‘Blackjack’ robbing or attacking people), some flashy (the Guard have given chase to suspected ‘Blackjacks’ several times, often across the Shingles, but he always manages to evade capture in some spectacular or mysterious fashion).

The varied actions of Blackjack gives strength to my theory that we have more than one impersonator on our hands. Even Blackjack’s traditional supporters (the poor and downtrodden) are split in their opinions, some glad to see him back, others wondering at his methods and his apparent attempt to assassinate the Queen (or Lady Elizabeth, though it is not widely known that she seemed to be the intended target).

The Lady Elizabeth has recovered, though rumours from the castle indicate that she is much subdued since the attack. These are not the only rumours from Castle Korvosa; apparently no one has seen the Seneschal of the Court, Neolandus Kalepopolis since around the time of the coronation, or shortly afterwards. Some say he has taken ill, or that he is busy on some task for the Queen (perhaps on foreign soil) – a few wonder in whispered tones if he had something to do with the assassination attempt. I have heard some say that he might be Blackjack, though I give that rumour little credit – the man is in his late fifties, and not particularly athletic or skilled with weapons that I have heard.

One person that has returned to society is Peryarv Lagren of Magnimar. He has blamed his recent absence on a short illness. I wonder what sort of deal he made with the Arkonas … or if it is indeed Lagren in body and mind and not some imitator working for the Arkonas. I have not yet had an opportunity to get close to him to find out.

Not all my work has involved patrolling the streets looking for Blackjack. At my request I have also been working extra shifts, liaising with the Hellknights in Old Korvosa (my opinion of them having changed now that I know they are here at official invitation and performing a service in defence of the city). As such I have been briefed to some extent on the disease that they guard against. Aria has also been making her own investigations into this matter, and we have been able to share our knowledge.

A few days after King Aroden’s death, on the 24th of Abadius, an Acadamae rapid response team headed into that part of Old Korvosa, after detecting a powerful and unauthorised use of magic in the area. They apparently discovered an extra-planar portal had been opened, and a dangerous and highly infectious disease was beginning to spread through the area. The team of mages immediately raised magical barriers around the area, and contacted the Acadamae, who sent more wizards to strengthen the barriers from the outside, and called in the Hellknights to maintain order and prevent anyone who might escape the barriers from leaving the area and possibly spreading the infection.

The original team of mages remained within the area. All contact has been lost with the last team member for several days now (as he presumably succumbed to the disease) and it is unknown how many people remain alive in the area, but before the Acadamae team was lost they were able to magically communicate with the outside, and were able to give quite a bit of information about the disease. It is highly infectious, spread by physical contact with an infected person (it does not appear to be airborne). Symptoms include blackened, necrotic skin that gives off a foul odour, frothing at the mouth, insanity and finally death within three to four days of symptoms first appearing. The incubation period is unknown or varied, but seems to be within one to seven days. The mages believe that corpses stay infectious for up to three days after death.

The Acadamae seems to have taken a long while to involve the city’s churches in this matter. I commend their dedication to protecting the city, but I cannot help but wonder whether the disease might have been contained through clerical magic, without the loss of possibly hundreds of people in those four city blocks, had the Acadamae called on the churches immediately. Of course, a disease of magical or extra-planar origin may prove somewhat resistant to clerical healing.

Thankfully, the Acadamae and Hellknight cordon seems to have been successful – there have been no cases of the disease reported elsewhere in the city. Thank Abadar we did not try to enter the area in search of Trinia! Felix and his misinformation have a lot to answer for. As well, I allowed my suspicion of the Hellknights to cloud my judgement. For all their sinister appearance, glorification of Hell, and harsh take on justice, they are just as dedicated to Law as any cleric of Abadar.

Although work has consumed most of my time, I have had a limited amount of time for my own pursuits. With everything that has happened since I caved Lamm’s chest in with my flail, I have had little opportunity to visit Talia’s grave. I have done so now, and the sense of closure I had begun to feel with Lamm’s death is strengthening.

I have also called in on the Delamore’s for tea. Lavinia seems a lovely young woman in her appearance and her manners – and strong of spirit too, with all she had experienced in Galt and her flight from that troubled country. Her mother is also pleasant, though I feel she wishes a courtship between her daughter and I to proceed more quickly than I am ready for at this stage.

I have seen little of the Merivanchis (with the exception of Ariadnae) or Agon for the past week or more. I understand that Lady Yasmin is still a guest at Brock House, and that a minor Arkona cousin has called several times to ensure that she is comfortable. I further understand that Marcus has concluded some profitable deal with Ambassador Amprei that sees him the owner of a warehouse in Midland (coincidently, the property next to Lamm’s fish processing warehouse) and a villa in Cliffside, as well as part owner of a tenement in Old Korvosa and a vineyard outside of the city. Amprei has also called on Brock House several times.

Aria has been conducting further research into the Harbingers, and has suggested that we meet at Brock House in two day’s time to discuss what she has uncovered.

From the Journal of Agon Deparle

5th of Calistril
Winter in Korvosa
Late Morning on Coronation Day for Queen Ileosa

The kitchen at Brock House had turned out a spectacular brunch – the aromas of brewed coffee, freshly cooked omelet and crunchy cooked bacon battled in the air above the scions of the Merivanchi House.

Marcus Luciano Merivanchi, nobleman, former rake and now responsible administrator of the Merivanchi holdings, sipped his coffee and contemplated those around him.

Cristiana d'Ivoso, his ambitious wife, was making chit-chat with their newest house-guest, Ms Yasmin Marcella. After rescuing her the previous evening at sword-point from her captors, Marcus had offered Yasmin sanctuary at Brock House – she would remain under Marcus’ care until she wished to return to her family, the House Arkona.

House Arkona… Marcus frowned as he thought of them. For so long now, the Guardsman Agon Deparle, amici to Marcus’ family, had been telling him they were corrupt, that they were behind the slave trade and every other criminal industry within the city; and for so long, Marcus had demanded Agon give him proof rather than the prattling of the Guardsman’s “instincts”. Yet last night, in the slavers’ auction house, Marcus had with his own eyes seen Lord Glorio Arkona himself sitting as a king within the criminal underworld. Perhaps there was something to the bastard Half-Elf’s suspicions after all…

Marcus’ delightful sister Mariana was there, eating heartily for once after a long and harrowing night. She had used her magic openly, slinging spells at the wizard Lagren who had been Yasmin’s captor. Marcus was proud of the spirit for the fray that his little sister showed, but concerned at how reckless she was becoming; surely she knew the dangers of using magic, of how the Academae would lock her away if she was discovered. He had already lost one sister and was determined not to lose another. Perhaps he should have another word to her about her magic…

Yasmin herself looked comfortable enough over breakfast – Christina was seeing beautifully to that. Oddly enough, it was only in moments of reflection like this that he realised how much he truly did admire his wife for her skill, for the way she worked so well with people. She was his wise counsel... just like Lady Elizabeth was to Queen Ileosa… Marcus blushed as his thoughts turned to the breath-taking and beautiful advisor to the queen. With an act of Will he turned his mind back to the Here and Now. Yes, Yasmin felt safe here. For now, that was all that was needed.

Tain Locus, champion of Abadar, Marcus’ brother-in-law and good friend, sat opposite Marcus at the end of the table. He ate slowly, with the same ordered dignity he lived his life ever since the death of his wife, Marcus’ sister. Tain saw Marcus looking at him and gave a reassuring smile. Last night had been rough, but they had survived; they had won. Tain had spent his time in meditation to Abadar this morning and his mind was clear, focused, and full of the joy that comes after any victory. They would all build on their success today, and find Trinia Sabor before the queen’s coronation that evening; such were the thoughts behind Tain’s confident smile. Marcus only wished he could agree.

“How is your sister, the priestess?” Marcus turned his attention from his brooding to answer Yasmin’s question.

“She has recovered well. She spends her morning in communion with her goddess, Pharasma, and assures me she will be healed in time to join us over breakfast.”

“And the Half-Elf” The one who fell in battle last night?”

“Agon slipped out this morning,” Tain replied. “I got the feeling he wanted to be alone.”

“Don’t worry,” confided Mari, “he’ll be along soon now that breakfast is served.”

“Somebody say something about breakfast?” I said as I marched into the dining room.

Gavik, Marcus’ footman, came in behind me.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I didn’t see him come in.”

Marcus waved the servant away.

“That’s fine, Gavik,” he sighed. “Take Officer Deparle’s weapon and find him a place at the table.”

“I’ll sit here, Gavik, across from Mari so I can look at something pretty while I eat.”

Mari gave me a “stop that” look. Gavik sat me at the other end of the table, close to Tain.

“Spoilsport,” I said as I sat, handing him my sword.

The atmosphere was friendly and welcoming. Light-hearted banter and chit-chat flowed back and forth as everyone ate, and ate well. With the tension of the night before, we all needed the release.

I overheard Yasmin speak quietly to Marcus – she was obviously not aware I could eavesdrop so well. She said how she would like Marcus to send a message to Ambassador Amprey, telling him that she was safe, and that she would be happy to see him, should Marcus be able to provide an appropriate chaperone. Marcus’ wife patted the girl’s hand and said she would be the chaperone, and that Marcus would arrange the meeting soon.

Down at my end of the table, Tain was re-enacting his battle last night, using a chicken bone as an impromptu flail. He made good sport of my quick collapse, and I did my best to laugh at the incident. Perhaps I was not convincing enough in my laugh, for the champion soon stopped and apologised if he seemed rude at my expense. I assured him it was fine, but did not think he believed me. Still, it was better to have Tain think I was upset at being beaten, than to have him know that earlier on that day I had been getting ready to assassinate the woman we were trying to arrest.

Before we had finished breakfast, Yasmin retired, claiming a headache. Marcus directed his wife to another part of the house so the rest of us could withdraw and plan out our capture of Sabor. We moved to the study and spread out Marcus’ map of the city. We were soon joined by Aria who looked remarkably well healed considering the damage she had sustained the night before – truly her goddess favoured the young priestess.

“I have learned,” Tain began, “that Trinia Sabor is not within the Hell Knight blockade as we had been led to believe.”

Feeling a hint of an accusation, I responded.

“Hey, if my brother says that’s what he heard, then that’s what he heard. He doesn’t lie to me. Maybe Trinia’s snuck herself out of the blockade.”

“Agon,” Marcus interjected, “your brother lies to everyone. Deal with it.” Before I could argue the point, the nobleman continued. “I’m inclined to believe Tain’s information, and that means we’ll have to start all over again trying to track down this woman. A difficult task given the time frame we’ve set for ourselves. The coronation is tonight.”

“So what are our ideas for getting to Trinia?” I asked.

“Well,” Mari began, “I can cast that spell again; the one that nearly killed me.”

“Oh gods!” I said, rubbing my face in frustration. “Why did I have to start by asking Mari?”

“Well this way,” Aria replied off-hand, “we know early on if we’ll be spending the day finding Trinia or being mobbed for using witchcraft.”

“I can use my magic to find her!” Mari proclaimed. Seeing Marcus begin to speak up, Mari continued. “I know what went wrong last time. I can control it. I can protect myself better. Oh let me try, Marcus!”

Marcus looked down, ordering his thoughts. When he looked up he saw his sister’s keen and pleading eyes. He looked around the room. Aria and Tain gave solemn nods. I was non-committal. Marcus relented.

“Very well, Mari. Get it done.”

“Oh thank you, Marcus.”

Mari took out her crystal pendant and hung it over the map, channeling her powers and using the words of power to focus her mind to a razor’s edge.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Marcus said, “I think I’ll send my wife to Yasmin, to see how she is.”

“By the goddess,” Aria exclaimed in jest. “He’s remembered his wife! It must be days since Lady Elizabeth has dropped by.”

I laughed out-loud before Tain silenced my with a reproachful look. Obviously the near-death experience and subsequent time in prayer had done Aria the world of good, for I could not ever remember seeing her to jovial. Marcus gave Aria a stern look and walked from the room to find his wife; he did not wish to watch Mari perform her magic.

The rest of us watched on in silence, respectful of Mari’s need to concentrate. It was fascinating to watch. (In truth, I found Mari fascinating to watch at most times.) I had literally no idea of how it was she did what she did, but somehow the knowledge or awareness she needed came to her; the pendant swung over a part of Old Korvosa and came to a stop on the map itself. Mari opened her eyes and blinked several times before spouting out the address with certainty. She did not even seem out of breath or fatigued by the effort. Magic!

“So we know where,” said Tain, breaking the awkward silence. “What about the ‘how’?”

Marcus re-entered the room.

“I have a plan,” I said.

“Of course,” replied Marcus, a trace of sarcasm in his voice. I ignored it and went on.

“I suggest a straight up approach; we are the good guys here. Marcus, you Tain and Mari go in through the front door. You’re the legitimate authority there to arrest a suspect and take her into protective custody. Trinia is smart enough to know she’s being hunted, and the three of you – the most respectable of all of us – should be able to convince her to come quietly for her own good.”

“And when that doesn’t work and she runs for it?” Marcus asked, folding his arms.

“Well, I’ll be waiting out the back, with Aria,” I replied. “We’ll nab her as she tries to run!”

Everyone agreed it was a sensible plan. Marcus wanted us all to leave the house piecemeal and rendezvous at Osric’s warehouse to collect our supplies. The Merivanchi’s dressed themselves in suitable attire, swapping brocaded silks for more durable and sensible clothing. Marcus wore his new Thassalonian chainmail shirt, covered by a black doublet and woolen coat. Aria wore a pirate costume similar to the one destroyed by magical fire the night before. I wondered why she would have a spare, but it turned out it was borrowed from Mari’s closet. Mari had a slighter frame than Aria, making the pirate shirt a rather tight fit. I had not previously noticed Aria’s figure and found myself a little distracted by the ample portion of bosom the priestess was now showing. Mari dressed simply, wearing a riding skirt and jacket. She told us of her plan to use magic to make herself invisible during the arrest of Sabor. Tain and I wore the trappings of our offices, the Church of Abadar for him and the Korvosan Guard for me. Neither of us saw the need to disguise ourselves for what was a legitimate mission of law enforcement. Everyone wore some kind of weapon. Being in my uniform, I also carried my bow and a quiver of arrows.

“We’ll need something to restrain her when we find her,” I stated.

“I can do some shopping,” Mari said, “but I’m not sure buying manacles is a good look for me.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that Mari,” I replied with a leer. She slapped me playfully, but hard.

“In other news,” Aria said, speaking up before Marcus could remonstrate with me about his kid sister. “I found out some information about the Hell Knight blockade.” We waited for her to go on. “The Hell Knights are working with the mages of the Academae. They have cordoned off the blocks – nothing and no-one gets in or out.”

“I too have heard talk of this,” said Tain. “But I do not know the nature of the blockade.”

“Nor I,” Aria replied. “No-one I spoke to does, or if they do know, they won’t tell me; well,” she continued with a smile, “they won’t tell me yet.”

“Well in any case,” Marcus said, refocusing the team. “It’s nothing for us to worry about now.” We all nodded in agreement. “Tain, what is this area of the city like?”

“Hmm,” the champion rubbed his chin in thought. “It’s close packed housing. Terrace housing for the most part, with many of the houses leaning in on each other or joined by common walls. The Shingles would give Sabor an easy escape if she was prepared to run on the roof-tops, and it’s likely the people there don’t take too kindly to the Law.”

“I know,” piped up Mari. “Perhaps we can disguise ourselves as locals. I know a great little costume shop not too far from here.”

Marcus and I, for once in accord, looked at each other shaking our heads.

“Perhaps we could use those manacles sooner that we thought,” I suggested to him.

“If we go now, I can see Remardo; he’s the tailor. I know, I’ll send a message to Rosalind, she knows Remardo quite well, ever since he helped her with that boy.”

Mari started to head from the room, but was held back by Marcus’s hand on her shoulder.

“I wasn’t kidding, Marcus; just manacle the girl. And gag her.”

A knock at the door stopped any further badinage. Tain quickly exited the room to answer the door.

Tain beat Gavik to the door and opened it to find Sabine Merrin standing on the street, fully dressed in the plate-mail armour she wore so easily, her hand-and-a-half sword slung casually at her hip.

“Mr. Locus,” she said in surprise.

“Ms. Merrin,” Tain gave a slight bow. “It is a pleasure to see you. Won’t you come in?”

“Of course,” Sabine replied, stepping inside.

Gavik belatedly tried to perform his duties at the front door. Finding himself with nothing to do, he hovered in the background. Back in the study, Marcus quickly removed the map from view.

When Sabine entered the study she looked quizzically at Aria’s clothing, a pirate costume complete with eye-patch.

“We’re about to go play a game of bridge!” Aria said in response to Sabine’s unasked question.

“With real bridges,” added Tain, following along with Aria’s enthusiasm.

I leaned over and whispered in sotto voce. “I think she get’s that part, Tain.”

I smiled at Sabine, winking hello. Again, my world grew that much brighter to see her smile in response.

“Master Merivanchi,” she began, turning her attention back to Marcus. “I am here on the formal business of Her Majesty, Queen Ileosa. Her Majesty is pleased to note that work that you and your associates have done for the Crown. She wishes to show her appreciation, and has asked me to inform you that yourself, your family, your associates here and their guests, are hereby invited to attend the coronation in the castle this evening as a part of the formal celebrations and to attend the coronation dance afterwards.”

“Ms. Merrin,” Marcus replied, “this is an incredible privilege you bestow on my family. We would be honoured to attend.” Marcus noticed the looks from the rest of us. “We all would be, Ms Merrin.”

“That is good to know. I shall inform Her Majesty. She will be pleased to know that you will be there given the close relationships we have had in the past.”

“And the not-too-distant future,” I interjected.

Marcus rolled his eyes. I am sure he would have said something but for the smile that forced its way onto Sabine’s face.

“How goes your mission, Master Merivanchi? Are you close to capturing Trinia Sabor?”

Marcus answered for all of us.

“We have several leads, Ms. Merrin. We are close to a breakthrough.”

“That is good to know.”

“But I do have a few questions, if you have the time.”

“Of course, Master Merivanchi,” Sabine replied.

“Once Sabor is in our custody, where would be the best place to deliver her? I hardly think delivering her in a sack to the postern gate of the castle would be appropriate.”

“No,” Sabine smiled, taking Marcus’ words as the jest he had intended. “Trinia must be delivered appropriately. You have several options, but I believe it would be … safer for her to be delivered to Field Marshall Croft, if that can be done.”

“As you wish, Ms Merrin,” Marcus said.

“That is good to know too” Sabine replied. “But I must go. I have duties to attend to. Agon, it has been too long.”

“Far too long.”

“I look forward to seeing you later tonight,” she said, with a happy edge to her voice that spoke, at least to me, of many wondrous possibilities.

“As do I, Sabine.”

Sabine nodded to Marcus and the others, and left us to our work. Once we heard the front door shut, the others turned to look at me, shaking their heads in wonder at my brashness, and with surprise that my brashness had actually been well received.

“Well my friends,” I said, heading for the back door. “I do believe I have some strutting to do. Heh heh heh.”

“Agon, you peacock,” Aria said shaking her head. “Will wonders never cease?”

“Hey Tain,” I said, clicking my fingers. “Sabine said we could bring guests, right?”

“Ms. Merrin did say that, yes.”

“So why not invite that beautiful foreign noblewoman you rescued from the otyugh; the one from Galt? Bringing her as a date to the coronation would impress the Hell out of her!”

“I am not sure, Agon, that it would be appropriate.”

“Of course it would! She’s new in town. She wants to meet people. You, her noble heroic protector, offer to take her to the coronation celebrations and introduce her to the Queen. She’ll love it!”

“It’s not that…” Tain found the subject difficult. “It’s my wife. I…”

“Oh.” Blast. I keep forgetting about Tain’s murdered wife. “Well it’s your call, my friend. Anyway, I’m off. I’ll see you all at Osric’s.”

True to my earlier word I strutted from the room, my head high in the clouds with thoughts of the coronation, and not at all concentrating on the mundane matters of capturing accused killers, city politics, dead spouses, or my duties as a Guardsman; a young man with his head filled with the thoughts of a beautiful woman doesn’t really notice much else, not even the black-clad figure that kept a vigilant watch on Brock House from a nearby rooftop.

*

Good update – well written and entertaining as usual Mister Deparle.

I liked the banter at Brock House in the morning – I’d missed some of that, the problem of not having my session notes with me when the inspiration to write hits!

The bit about Marcus remembering his wife is great (he does tend to forget her some sessions). And the handcuffs! You’ve woven that well into the story. The way my notes show it was half in / half out of character discussion, it went something like this:

Agon: Does anyone have any handcuffs?
Mari: I wanted to go shopping, I cold buy some.
Agon and Tain look at each other, obviously thinking along the same lines: Hmmm…
Marcus: Actually, I have some.
Aria: Why do you have handcuffs?
Marcus: Oh they’re for Mari really.
Agon and Tain look at each other, obviously thinking along the same lines again.
Tain: So that’s how it is in this family …

Well, I think I might leave the whole handcuffs thing to Marcus. Mari obviously has been inducted into all the family mysteries yet.

I do believe Mari said, "I could go shopping and buy some, though that would not be a good look for me."

Both Agon and Tain are keeping up the good work here!

From the Journal of Agon Deparle

5th of Calistril
Winter
Just before midday in the day of Queen Ileosa' Coronation

I swung by the Cambion Manor-house on my way to Osric’s warehouse to collect some equipment my weapons & equipment and to prepare instructions for the coronation later that night. Johan, the house steward, took note of my requests to have my dress uniform given a ‘once over’. He knew I would look over it again when I returned.

I noticed that one of my ‘every-day-wear’ uniforms was absent. Johan said he had not seen it. I assumed Felix was using it for some kind of scam, and I resolved to have a word with him sooner rather than later. I planned for the two of us to carve out a niche within the city’s politics and trade, but I needed his co-operation, not competition.

Leaving a note for my brother to seek me out and speak with me, I stole out of the house and made for Osric’s Emporium of Fine Goods.

Osric’s Emporium of Fine Goods was located down at the Midlands docks. It was a large warehouse which, as well as housing the myriad of items Osric bought and sold, served as the Dwarf’s armour-smithing forge, his home and his office. To my eyes it dominated the block, but that was only because it was my destination-of-choice; unless you knew you were looking at a criminal front, Osric’s warehouse looked much like any other.

He did not live there alone, and kept a staff of orphans on hand to help him maintain security. Osric had a knack for remembering slights, for holding grudges and for paranoid security. Despite the very likely possibility it was otherworldly magic that had placed a Harrow card in his ledger, Osric had continued holding to the same high-presence high cost security arrangements he had taken immediately after finding the Harrow card and his assumption that his sanctum had been breached. He had even written about the incident in his Book of Grudges, his prized recording of every slight against him.

Had I tried to sneak in to Osric’s warehouse, I was certain I would have been spotted and shot long before I could establish my identity. Shrugging my shoulders at the security measures, I simply knocked on the door. A little question-and-answer session allowed me to enter.

Inside, rows and rows of goods or every kind imaginable – most of it of dubious origin – lined the warehouse interior. A loft held the owner’s private quarters, and an interior bricked (and hence relatively sound-proof) chamber served as an office; the forge and workshop was out the back by the private dock.

Also out the back was a series of scaffolding mimicking the rooftops of the Shingles. Osric had had this constructed, at my suggestion, when we were originally given the commission of finding and arresting Trinia Sabor. Knowing the likelihood of some kind of rooftop chase to secure the suspected assassin, I knew some of the others such as Aria, Mari and Marcus would need some familiarity with working and moving in such environments. Practise, after all, makes perfect and it made good operational sense to have the less limber members of the team to gain some terrain-specific athleticism.

This scaffolding had been used over the last week, but when I arrived that morning I instead spotted Aria wandering around the warehouse looking at random at the different crates. Mari was there too, rummaging in one of the boxes and pulling out dresses to hold against herself. So much for practise!

Osric came out his office towards me.

“Agon, lad,” he began. “Come here. I have that order for you.”

I followed the Dwarf into his office; there, out of sight of the others, Osric handed over the poisoned arrows.

“As I said, lad,” he told me, “I could not get the deadliest of poisons in the short time you gave me, but these two arrows are coated in venom from a particularly nasty type adder; the poison works in wounds. If your assassin puts both into the same target, odds are they’ll get the kill. They’re sheathed and I’ve had the fletched with red and green so they can be differentiated from your normal arrows, er... I mean from your assassin’s normal arrows.”

“Yes, thank you.” Some comments are best ignored. “You will be paid in time.”

“I know, lad. I know.” Osric clapped me on the back in a friendly fashion. “You’re an up-and-coming officer in the Guard, I’m sure it you’ll be able to lend a hand to me and mine.”

I placed the two poisoned arrows into my quiver, and moved out to speak with the others.

“Oh, by the way, Osric,” I said, turning as I got the office door. “I need another cloak.”

“What about the one you grabbed this morning?”

“I need one with weights in the bottom, something to give it some volume if I need to throw it over someone.”

“Hmm,” the Dwarf rubbed his chin. “I can take care of that myself. Give me that cloak and about fifteen minutes.”

I handed him the cloak and left him to his work.

Marcus and Tain arrived just as Osric was finishing up the modifications to the cloak. I had used the time to run over the scaffolding a few times with Aria and Mari. I was confident that Aria was able to handle herself, but Mari did not look confident in her skills. She was nimble enough, but lacked the necessary athleticism. I was glad I would be taking just Aria up on the Shingles.

In short order the five of us were ready to go. Marcus had organised with Osric for all of us to hitch a ride on one of his delivery carts. I was pleasantly surprised to find the driving crew consisted of two Half-Elves of Varisian descent.

“Prince Felix,” the driver said, addressing me in Elven, “it is good to see you well. What’s the caper, and who’s the rich lord?”

“Thank you, ahh…”

“Seldon.”

“Thank you, Seldon, but I am Agon, not Felix.”

“The Guardsman?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” The driver exchanged a look of concern with his cohort. “What I mean is… ahh… err...”

“Relax, cousin,” I laughed. “Whether I’m on duty or not, you have nothing to worry about from me. I honour the forest, not just the trees.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Call me Agon. I insist.”

Even though she was invisible, I am certain that Mari was listening in as she was curious and fluent in Elven. It would not be the first time she had seen the reaction I drew from many people of Varisian descent. For the rest of the trip through the town I chatted with Seldon and the other Half-Elf, Alezthal. They were good people; thieves, obviously, but good of heart. They had worked for Osric for several months, working as ‘transportation specialists’. I made a mental note to get Felix to speak to them about further work.

Trinia Sabor was, according to Mari’s spell, hold up in an apartment block on Wave Street. The proximity of Arkona Street made me slightly uncomfortable, but I admit I am prone to paying too much attention to omens. The others were unfazed and I think all of us took some confidence from Tain’s calm attitude. After Seldon and Alezthal dropped us off near the apartment, Marcus gave us one his inspiring little speeches about how we were prepared and working as a force for Goodness and Justice. It cheered the others, and myself, and we made out way to Trinia’s bolt-hole with enthusiasm.

Aria and I slipped around the back. Tain led the way for Marcus and the invisible Mari. They did not get far before a silver-haired resident popped her head out and address Tain in a sweet voice frail with age.

“Can I help you dearie?” She asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” the champion replied. “We’re here for Trinia Sabor. Do you know where we can find her?”

“Of course,” came the old lady’s gentle reply, before she took a breath and yelled, “TRINIA! THEY’VE COME FOR YOU!”

The old lady pulled on a rope and bells, strung up and through the building began to ring. Tain ran past the woman and up into the building. Mari, still unseen, ran behind him. Marcus pushed past the old woman to see if she was hiding Trinia in her apartment – I guess noblesse oblige doesn’t apply to the old and infirm who hide accused assassins.

Tain dashed up the stairs, following the cords attached to the bells and climbing quickly to the third landing. On the landing he was confronted with a choice of doors. Mari, using her magic, had located Trinia and from behind Tain gave her assistance.

“That door, there Tain,” she said pointing.

“Mari, you’re invisible. If you’re pointing, I can’t see you!”

“Oh, I mean the door to your right.”

“Got it.”

Tain threw himself at the door. His armoured shoulder slammed into the door, but it did not budge. He backed up to hit it again.

“Tain…”

“Not now Mari, I can handle this. Stand back.”

“But Tain, Trinia is…”

“Behind this door, I know. Now stand back.”

Tain backed up and hit the door again. It flew open on the one-room apartment. Several paintings, a blank canvas on an easel, a clothes dresser, a chair and a bed furnished the room. Tain saw Trinia lying still on the bed.

“Trinia Sabor,” he proclaimed. “You are under arrest.”

Tain wondered why Trinia didn’t react. In fact, why hadn’t she reacted to the alarm and the door being bashed open?

“Ms. Sabor?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Tain,” Mari said from behind him. “The image on the bed is an illusion. She’s gone out the window and is up on the roof.!”

“Blast,” Tain swore. “Let’s hope Agon and Aria have got it. I’m going out the window after her. Go tell your brother.”

*

From the Journal of Agon Deparle

5th Calistril
Winter
Midday of the day of Queen Ileosa' Coronation

A few minutes earlier, Aria and I had taken positions in the back alley behind the apartment. We scanned the area. I noticed that Trinia’s building had no serviceable fire exit – a fineable offence by the way, should a Guardsman wish to shake down a fine from the inhabitants or the owner; or more usefully a valid excuse for a ‘spot inspection’ to cover up the break-and-enter no doubt about to occur. The flanking buildings, however, had sturdy fire exits. I signaled to Aria to move up one, while I climbed the other. I also grabbed a handful of dirt from, and motioned for Aria to do likewise. It occurred to me that if Mari could turn invisible, maybe Trinia could too, and a handful of dirt to throw around might come in handy.

It was an easy matter to jump from the roof of one building to the other; the Thieves Highway was a well used pathway after all. As I heard the shouting and bells from the building below us Aria and I threw the dirt over the flat roof. I hoped that even if she was invisible Trinia’s footsteps would crunch on the dirt and let me know where she was. It was long-shot, yes; but I had good hearing and it never hurt to gamble.

Aria and I did not have to wait long. I heard a footstep on the dirt, and then another and another, approaching me. I took off my cloak, weighted for a relatively easy throw thanks to Osric’s tailoring, and threw it in the direction of the footsteps. The black cloak settled over a feminine form. Before the cloak could be removed, I’d tackled the figure to the floor. She struggled, but soon I was joined by Aria. The priestess called upon the power of the goddess and touched the struggling woman with a hand that seemed entwined with a ghostly bone hand. The invisible woman collapsed, her enchantment faded, and below me lay Trinia Sabor: fugitive, accused assassin and patsy.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked at with a haunted and heart-broken expression.

“Agon, my darling,” said cried. “Why are you doing this?”

*

Aria and I exchanged looks of confusion as Tain made his way onto the roof from below.

“Trinia Sabor,” I began formally, “You are under arrest on the charge of regicide. You will be taken into protective custody.”

“But why Agon,” she cried – with real tears too. “Why are you betraying me?”

“Agon,” Aria asked suspiciously, “what is going on?”

“Good lady,” I replied to Trinia, “I have never seen you before in my life.”

“Why are you lying, Agon?” Trinia asked. “Why have you kept me safe this last week? Why have you shared my bed only to betray me now?”

“But Trinia I have…” Realisation hit me. I looked at Aria. “It was Felix! Sh!t.”

“Felix? What do you… Oh.” Aria rolled her eyes as she understood. “For the love of the Goddess, Agon! We don’t have time to deal with this.”

Aria reached out and touched Trinia again, and the accused assassin slumped into unconsciousness.

“We need to get her off this roof and out of sight. Now,” I said emphatically.

Tain hefted Trinia onto his shoulders.

“Bring her back to the edge,” he said. “Mari is back in Trinia’s room. Between the three of us we can man-handle her back down there.”

I did not tell Aria and Tain the reason for my urgency. It seemed while Sabine Merrin wanted Trinia alive, Lady Elizabeth did not. I did not know for sure if Felix was working for himself for fun and profit, if he was sincerely helping Trinia, or if he was setting her up for assassination by himself or another party. All three were as likely as each other, and the possibilities meant we needed to move Trinia to a secure location – away from that building – as soon as possible.

In short order the three of us, plus Trinia were back down in Trinia’s room. Marcus was there too; he and Tain shoved the dresser against the door to make sure it stayed closed. I smelled Mari’s perfume and realised she was with us, but still invisible. As Aria chanted some prayer to her goddess, I put Trinia in manacles, took my cloak from her, and gently roused her. As she woke, she looked at me at first with sincere affection, and then fear.

“Agon? What is happening? Why have you done this?”

“Well Trinia, seeing as I have never met you before, I suspect the person you have known as me over the last week has in fact been my twin brother, Felix.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” She had a good point. It did sound a little far fetched. “If you don’t love me, then just be man enough to say so. Don’t lie to me, you betraying bastard.”

Aria finished her chanting and could not resist putting her two coppers in.

“If it makes any difference, Trinia, Agon does have an evil twin brother.”

“He’s not evil,” I said immediately in my brother’s defence. “He’s just …”

“Save it, Agon,” Marcus said over his shoulder.

“Besides,” Aria continued, “I have cast an enchantment over the room. No-one can tell a lie here.”

“What do you mean exactly by ‘no-one can tell a lie’?” Marcus asked, suddenly suspicious and defensive.

“Yeah,” Mari asked, her concern at being forced to speak truthfully overcoming her hesitancy to speak while invisible.

Given my recent change in lifestyle from one of the city’s law enforcement operatives to hopeful-future-crime-lord, I was more than a little unsure of this ‘truth spell’ myself. Marcus and I eyed each other with folded arms, neither of us prepared to open to betting on subjects we would rather not discuss. Mari too, fell silent.

A violent banging at the door provided a welcome discussion.

“Open up in there. What have you done with Trinia.”

“Clear off!” Tain’s response was to the point.

“Says who?”

“Says the Church of Abadar!”

Tain open the door just enough for the tenants to see the size of his armoured form and the size of his great-flail. They fell to quiet discussion among themselves and Tain shut the door.

Inside, Aria was speaking gently to Trinia.

“Did you poison the king?”

“Oh no, I would never do that.”

“Did you bring the king his food?”

“Sometimes. I used to paint for him and entertain him. Sometimes I would bring him food as well.”

“Could someone else have poisoned the king’s food?”

“I suppose so. But who could have done that?”

I needed no ‘truth magic’ to see that the girl was no murderer, but I wanted to know more. In the little time we had I got her to talk about her relationship with the queen and with Lady Elizabeth. Trinia opened up to me fairly easily; getting people to confide in me is a gift I have, and given the circumstances I think fear played as much as role as my smile and blue eyes in getting Trinia to share what she knew.

She told me of how she had grown up with Ileosa and Elizabeth, learning their lessons together as girls. When she told me of how she was a servant in the house of Ileosa, I asked why it was she was given the same lessons as the daughter of the house. Trinia said she was born to one of the servants of the house and always looked on her favourably. Aria and I exchanged a look, but it was Marcus who gave voice to our thoughts.

“Who was your father?”

“I never met him. My mother did not speak of him.”

Ahh; all of us exchanged a knowing look. (Well, except for Mari, who could have been looking at us knowingly but was still invisible; and frankly that made non-verbal communication exceptionally difficult.)

So it seemed likely that Trinia Sabor was the half-sister of Queen Ileosa; an interesting piece of information, but not particularly relevant at that red-hot minute.

From outside came a familiar voice; my voice.

“Open up in there, by order of the Korvosan Guard!”

Felix.

“Hide her!” Marcus ordered.

“Gag her,” said Mari. She then mumbled under her breath, making unseen movements. Before our eyes Trinia Sabot disappeared, turned invisible by Mari’s magic.

Tain, after checking all was in order, opened the door.

“Sh!t,” Felix said as he saw who was in Trinia’s room. “Hi Tain! How’s things?”

“Felix!” Tain’s voice was full of menace.

“I’ll handle this, Tain,” I said, moving quickly passed him and out onto the landing. I threw and arm around Felix, who was dressed identically to me, and led him away a few steps.

“Brother,” I began, “what is going on? You’re pretending to be me?”

“I’m just protecting the damsel-in-distress.”

“By pretending to be me.”

“Well she’s hardly going to want to be protected by ‘Felix Deparle, gentleman smuggler’! So I borrowed your name for a while. Besides, it turns out she has a thing for men in uniform, heh heh.”

I slammed Felix against the wall, my elbow at his throat. I felt his hand drop to one of his daggers, and grabbed that wrist with my other hand.

“You’re supposed to tell me when you do this, Felix! Don’t you realise what’s a stake here? This is no game!”

“Hey, don’t be like that, brother; I saw a chance to make some money and I took it. You would do the same, or you would have, once. Your uniform’s gone to your head.”

“Tell me,” I whispered, “Is this just for you, or are you lining this woman up to be taken out by someone else, or by you?”

Felix was a good liar, better than I had given him credit for seeing as he tricked me over this, but he knew when I needed to know the truth.

“No, brother, I’m not looking to have her whacked. I’ve kept her safe and I plan to keep doing so.” He shoved me back away from him. “Now where is she?”

And now it was time for me to lie to him. As we spoke, Marcus and the others filed down the stairs. Tain walked a little stiffly as if hurt – he must have been carrying Trinia – and Aria walked beside him to keep him steady.

“She wasn’t in her room when we came for her. I think she fled across the Shingles.” Felix nodded, knowing that is what she would have done. “Felix,” I continued, “Trinia is in terrible danger. Powerful people want her dead. Where would she have gone?”

“She could have gone to Bloody Finch,” he said after a moment’s thought, “or to my place on the other side of the Narrows.”

“Okay,” I said thinking. “We need to find her. You check your place, I’ll check with Finch. We’ll meet up back at Brock House – it’ll be safe there for her.”

“Done,” Felix said, and ran off. His entourage of tenants went with him, having looked to see that Trinia was not in the room with us.

Downstairs, Marcus had hailed a carriage. He gestured for us all to climb in, but stated he had business to tend to and would meet us later. Before he left he expressed his anger at me for suggesting Felix meet me back at Brock House for it meant he could not take Trinia there to keep her safe, and was now forced to deliver her to the Guard Citadel (and to Field Marshall Croft) for safe-keeping.

As he walked off, I smiled to myself; you see, manipulating the others into taking Trinia Sabor to Field Marshall Croft had been my plan from the beginning – after all, I had the beautiful Sabine Merrin to impress and an officer’s commission to win.

*

From the Journal of Agon Deparle

5th Calistril
Winter
MIdday of the day of Queen Ileosa' Coronation

Squeezed into the carriage was Tain, Mari (still invisible), Aria, myself and the invisible and manacled Trinia Sabor. Tain and Mari say opposite Aria, Trinia and I. As we traveled through the city I felt an invisible hand on my thigh – my upper thigh.

“Please, Agon,” Trinia whispered in my ear. “Please let me go.”

“Milady,” I began. “You are being taken into protective custody. We are keeping you safe.”

The others looked quizzically at me for this outburst. They could only see me fliching oddly, and did not know the reason. Trinia kept whispering in my ear; I felt her breath on my neck. It felt good.

“Don’t you remember? I can be so good to you.” Her hand crept higher, and I felt the softest of kisses on my ear.

All women have a certain magic about them that men find hard to resist, and my blood runs as red as the next man’s. I found myself starting to think how it was I could satisfy my fleshy urgings with this woman without seeing my own head in the chopping block. Fortunately, Aria came to my rescue, placing a Pharasma-touched hand on my temptress and putting her to sleep. I mouthed a heart-felt ‘thank you’ to Aria.

“Say,” I remarked, pulling at my collar. “Is it hot in here?”

I opened a window. Tain smiled and I heard Mari’s faint chuckle at my discomfort.

*

The red tape of procedure melted quickly away when we rolled on into the citadel with Trinia Sabor. My friend Lieutenant Mel Brown was on duty, and only too glad to help her friend being in such a high-profile fugitive. In very short order we were standing, all of us visible, before Field Marshall Croft. The Field Marshall was so pleased she actually smiled.

“Well, well. The infamous Trinia Sabor at last.” She looked at each of us in turn. “Well done. Sergeant,” she called. “Put her in the cells.”

“Field Marshall,” Aria said stepping forward. “I have questioned the suspect under the Truth of Pharasma. I do not believe… that is, I am convinced that she is innocent.”

“I agree with Priestess Aria,” said Tain.

Field Marshall Croft held up her hand.

“This is not the time for such debate; that is for the trial.”

“Field Marshall,” Aria said with a deep breath. “We are not sure if Trinia will get a fair trial. She seems to be already convicted in the minds of … some members of the royal court.”

I was impressed with Aria’s verve. So too, it seems, was the Field Marshall.

“Thank you for your honesty, Aria.” Croft said. “I too suspect that Ms. Sabor is innocent of the charges, but she HAS been charged and will face trial according to the law; would you not agree that this is proper, Mr. Locus?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the champion replied.

“Then it is settled. I will have the clerk make a note of your comments and he will ensure you are notified of the trial date so that you can attend.” Croft gestured to her clerk, seated nearby, and the orderly made notes in a wax board.

At the gesture to a waiting pair of soldiers, Trinia Sabor was led away. She thanked Aria and Tain for their support as she was led to the cells, still wearing the manacles I had placed on her. No-one even looked like giving me a receipt!

“Now, Cadet Deparle,” the Field Marshall said, her voice heavy. “You are being uncharacteristically silent. Was there anything you had to add?”

“Only regarding a possible complication in the near future, ma’am.”

“There’s always something, Cadet Deparle. Isn’t there?”

I assumed the question was rhetorical and continued with what I was going to say.

“During the arrest, ma’am, I learned that my twin brother had been impersonating me and protecting the fugitive through at least the last week.”

“You and your fvcking brother,” the Field Marshall exclaimed, shaking her head.

“I had no knowledge of his activities, ma’am. But he seems to have formed a personal relationship with Trinia.” Field Marshall Croft’s eyebrows rose. “I suspect, ma’am, that he may impersonate me again over the next few days and try to see Trinia in her cell.”

“Of. Course.” The Field Marshall swore again. “And what do you propose we do about this?”

“Well, ma’am, I suggest that the next time ‘I’ come by here, you have me arrested and questioned, because the ‘me’ that comes here will in fact be my twin brother.”

“And have him strip-searched, to prove that it is him,” Aria added. “Check for the birth-mark on his backside.”

“What birth-mark?” I asked.

“Exactly!” Aria replied. “This way they’ll just keep looking.”

“Very well,” Field Marshall Croft replied, cutting off further discussion. “The next time I see you here, Cadet Deparle, I shall have you arrested. Now get out of here and sort out your brother before I arrest you too just to make it easier!”

*

Out of curiosity, roughly how long does it take you guys to write this journal? It's so nicely written, and you write so frequently that it must be very time-consuming!

Out of curiosity, roughly how long does it take you guys to write this journal? It's so nicely written, and you write so frequently that it must be very time-consuming!

We play every two weeks the both Mothy and Deparle take notes. Then the journal entries come out over those two weeks. I am not sure how they do it either. I have too much going on at home to even attempt to putting something together.

We have lost Felix's players as one has found a new girlfriend and the other has too many commitments. Felix has become an NPC, the GM is using him very well.

Felix has become an NPC, the GM is using him very well.

Yeah, I can see that ;)

From the Journal of Marianna Merivanchi:

I began to perspire in the close confines, the heat and gloom of the small space began to take their effect on me. Beyond I could here Marcellano scratching on the box, voicing the irritation I was feeling at this moment. I felt I was suffocating. “Hold on Marcel, I am doing this as fast as I possibly can,” I muttered, mostly to comfort myself.

My fingers fumbled with the small wires, trying to force them to an angle that was almost impossible in the narrow space I was force to cram tight against the lock to get to the damn thing in the first place. Not for the first time I doubted the wisdom of taking so much precious time to learn how to pick a lock and not focus on my studies.

“C’mon lass, me dinner is getting’ cold!” Osric said, muffled, from beyond. I felt a shift in Marcel’s mood and a loud, if distant, purr. Gods’ damned traitor that cat, I thought less than politely. “Your brother will be sendin’ that Dante over ‘ere very soon to collect you.”

“Well if you had not chosen the best lock in the warehouse for me to pick, I would be out by now!” I blew a strand of dark hair from my face, but only managed to secure it annoying to my perspiring forehead. “Why the hell did you put me in a chest?”

“Who in name of the hells has a chest with a lock on the inside?”

I heard him chuckle. “A famous dwarf once said… well something…” I could almost hear him thinking of something to say.

“Gods!” I swore to know one as I dropped one of the wires. I was forced to twist and turn my body and arm into new amazing positions every time one managed to slip from my fingers. Osric had made me swear not to use magic in any of his “training courses.”

“Without struggle, there is no progress.”

“What? A dwarf never said that anything like that as far as I know.”

“Really? Are you sure, it sounds perfectly dwarven to me!”

“You are biased Osric, everything is said by a damn dwarf according to you. Your quote came from a famous and great human!”

“You’re talking in exclamations again, Mari, my dear.”

I stopped speaking as panic rose up in my breast, for a moment I could not right my position in the chest. The wire was gripped weakly between the finger-and-thumb of my right hand. One more rogue of hair blinded me as it stuck to the sweat on my forehead.

“Who was it?” Osric said, I could hear faint metallic scraping and then a belch. The faint smell of roasted venison intruded the humid stickiness of the chest. My stomach growled. I made a mental note to turn Osric’s beard pink.

“What are you talking about?”

“Who said it?”

“Damn you Osric, I am stuck in a chest and you want to play famous anecdotes and quotes. Go find Marcus, he’ll love to play.”

“Not a bad idea. Bye!”

“No! NO, OSRIC!” I began to panic as I heard his loud footsteps grow distant, the sound of a plate dropping into a sink and a heavy door closing. I also realised the light from beyond the chest had gone. I stopped hammering the inside of the chest with my palms and forced myself to take a breath.

“Curses! Curses!”

I forced myself to calm down, focus on the situation and ease my mind. I breathed slowly, imagining calm in the centre of a raging storm. Slowly the calm began to spread, peeling back the anger and frustration of the storm. I was the calm, I was tranquillity. I was the calm centre of the storm.

“Gods!”

The meditation rubbish never worked. Instead of examined the lock, the odd poster I was in, the fine set of wires in my left hand. I calculated the variables, factored in the difficulty of the situation. After a moment, I began to work on the lock again.

As time expanded and contracted, as ages passed, I could almost feel old Asmodeus’ beard growing long. Suddenly, a small scrap and click brought the lock free. I cheered in relief and slumped uncomfortably against the floor and wall of the chest.

A couple of moments later, I realised I was still sitting in a chest and pushed open the heavy lid.

“Good girl!” Osric exclaimed as he picked up the blanket he had tossed over the chest. “That was one of my me harder locks and you cracked it.” He looked a bit crestfallen at his own words.

I smiled in relief at the wily dwarf and lent forward to hug him. I planted a kiss on rough cheek. “Thank you, Osric!”

“Sure, any time,” he blushed.

“I best get home before Marcus or he will be wondering where I have got myself now.”

“Good night,” I said as I left, trying not to laugh as I exited through a secret door into the alleyway beyond.

“Night,” he called behind me.

Once safely outside, I laughed quietly to myself, as I bent over to pick Marcel off the cobbled pathway. Osric now had a nice, big, bushy pink beard.

From the Journal of Marianna Merivanchi:

I took a few moments to change, casting a minor weave to freshen myself up and look more presentable. Walking to the street, I hailed a cab and instructed the driver to Old Korvosa. Checking my gear, I made sure my rapier was perfectly clean and maintained. I smiled at the fine balance and craftsmanship of the blade.

The cab rocked to and throe as we past through the streets, the sun fading slowly in the west. I felt a moment of anxiousness, realising that I may be late for my training session. I fiddled absently with my hair, then stroked Marcel’s dark coat. He purred contentedly on my lap, his tail wrapped around his body against the cold.

I spent the time admiring the city; the streets I never knew existed less than a month before. How much of the world had I missed being cooped up in the parlours of noble houses? The people went about their business in the dying light of the day, preparing to go home to families and dinner.

A guardsman bowed his head to me as the cab passed, and I smiled in return. I realised that I was not dressed in my usual manner, that I simply resembled a young woman dressed in fencing leathers not the noble façade I so commonly presented to the world.

The cab pulled up to a nondescript tenement block on the edge of Old Korvosa. I picked up Marcel and nestled him under my left arm. With the other I paid and tipped the driver, instructing him to pick me up in just over an hour, if he desired a fare back to the Grey later. He smiled a toothy grin before nodding.

As the cab pulled away, I waited until it was out of sight, before placing Marcel into the comfort of his pocket. I looked around casually, as if waiting for someone and then turned towards the wall before me. A casual passer-by, except for perceptive individuals such as Agon and Osric, would not notice the network of handholds in the brickwork. A ladder of sorts to the Shingles above – the Thieves’ Highway!

As I prepared to climb the wall in the last rays of sunlight, I heard bells in the distance heralding the new hour. I smiled and then almost jumped back off the wall when I heard someone clear their throat.

Beside me stood a small Halfling with handsome and wizened features, he was dressed like a proper gentleman though he had an air of Osric about him. He bowed his head, taking the hat from his head and raising his cane as he did so. In the next instance he righted himself, replacing the hat over his head of tight, black curls.

I noted that he wore boots, strange attire indeed for a halfling. “Evening good sir, you surprised me!” I said nervously, forgetting any thing about etiquette.

“I apologise, my dear, I had no idea that my sudden presence would have that effect!” He smiled and I noted warily that his sudden appearance had everything to do with shocking me. “Please, do you require any assistance off… or… up that wall?”

“No, I am quite fine where I am,” I puzzled myself sometimes, why did I insist on opening my mouth, “I was just examining the masonry, Mr?”

“Tarhair.”

“Just Mr. Tarhair?”

“For now, my dear, I am not one for elaborate or sudden introductions.”

“Well, for one who does not care for sudden introductions,” I replied, noting 1) I was still three or so feet up a wall, and 2) where the in the hells did this halfling come from? “If you don’t mind, I was hoping to… conclude my business.”

“Go right ahead,” he said, making no move to leave. He leaned against the wall and took out a pipe.

Sighing, I returned to the street and stared at the halfling. I was becoming impatient and late. “Excuse me…”

“You have not introduced yourself, my dear; it is quite rude not to introduce ones self to a gentlemen. So I have heard!”

“Huh?”

“Your name?”

“Mari?” I said absently, the smell from the pipe was intoxicating and the smoke was making me drowsy. I staggered back a step. Somewhere in the distance, I heard a cab approaching. The smell of horses was strong in the air. Panic rose through the empathic bond between me and Marcel. I forced myself to focus, taking a moment to reinforce myself against the strange, thick smoke from the pipe.

I shook my head, taking a couple of steps away from the strange halfling. He looked at me quizzically over his pipe.

“What? Who? Who are you?” I stammered.

“Mr. Tarhair, an associate of a friend of yours,” he mumbled over his pipe, “Though it would be totally inappropriate of me to give you his name, you see, as I gave my word not to do so. His gold is good, flows like the Jeggare River, so my lips are sealed.”

A cab pulled up in front of us and the halfling quickly stowed his pipe before stepping forward, towards the cab. As he pulled the door close, he nodded appraisingly and smiled. “You did well, my girl, you did well. I will be sure to let my friend know how you fared.”

With a nod to the driver and a bow of the head to me, he took his leave. I slumped against the wall, dazed and weary. Confusion threatened to rise up, but I refused to give in. Once I was myself again, I turned back towards the wall. I was unsure how to proceed. Who would believe a story about a halfling that appears out of no where and then assaults me with pipe smoke?

I began climbing to the roof. Once I was on the Shingles, I took a moment to appreciate the view and allowed the cool evening air to clear my head. When I felt settled, I started off towards my rendezvous. Of course, he was waiting for me patiently, sitting on the roof, enjoying the view of the city.

“You are late, Mari,” Vencarlo said, absently playing with a cord on his scabbard, “Our time is short enough; I cannot have a student wandering around aimlessly with a blade. She may hurt herself or someone else.”

“I apologise, master,” I said, looking down at tiles beneath my feet, “It will not happen again.”

“Do not lie to me, Mari, you and your brother will be embroiled in more trouble I am sure. It seems the scions of House Merivanchi cannot keep themselves out of adventures recently.”

“I have been practicing. Agon has been helping me with some techniques.”

“He is a solid student, though far too preoccupied with himself to be a master.”

“Are you sure this is wise, I should tell Marcus you are training me.”

“No you do not, not for a second; you are enjoying the thrill of having a secret your brother of which your brother is ignorant. If you were so concerned about secrets, why did you not tell him about the magic?”

I was hesitant to answer, as I had no idea how to offer one. Marcus and I had always been close, like Aerodus and Talia had been close. However, at some point I wanted to be my own person, to have something that was exclusively mine. I did not tell Vencarlo this revelation of myself, I had no intention of doing so anytime soon.

“My secrets are my own, master. I promise I will be as honest as I can with you. If that is a problem, I will leave now?”

“Your secrets can remain your own, Marianna,” he said simply, “I have many and also have no intention of sharing them with you. As long as you are honest about your training, there is no problem between us.”

I nodded. He smiled. For the next hour, he taught me how little I knew of fencing or combat.

Crud! I really need to edit what I write a little more thoroughly, so many grammatical errors!

I wish there was a way to delete old posts!

Anyway, below I have posted the two entries again. Sorry for messing up the journal.

A third one is to follow!

From the Journal of Marianna Merivanchi:

I began to perspire in the close confines; the heat and gloom of the small space were beginning to take their effect on me. Beyond I could here Marcellano scratching on the box, voicing the irritation I was feeling at this moment. I felt I was suffocating. “Hold on Marcel, I am doing this as fast as I possibly can,” I muttered, mostly to comfort myself.

My fingers fumbled with the small wires, trying to force them to an angle that was almost impossible in the narrow space I was force to cram tight against the lock to get to the damn thing in the first place. Not for the first time I doubted the wisdom of taking so much precious time to learn how to pick a lock and not focus on my studies.

“C’mon lass, me dinner is gettin’ cold!” Osric said, muffled, from beyond. I felt a shift in Marcel’s mood and a loud, if distant, purr. Gods’ damned traitor that cat, I thought less than politely. “Your brother will be sendin’ that Dante over ‘ere very soon to collect you.”

“Well if you had not chosen the best lock in the warehouse for me to pick, I would be out by now!” I blew a strand of dark hair from my face, but only managed to secure it annoyingly to my damp forehead. “Why the hell did you put me in a chest?”

“Who in the name of the hells has a chest with a lock on the inside?”

”Me,” I heard him chuckle, “A famous dwarf once said… well something…” I could almost hear him thinking of something to say.

“Gods!” I swore to no one but the darkness as I dropped one of the wires. I was forced to twist and turn my body and arm into new amazing positions every time one managed to slip from my fingers. Osric had made me swear not to use magic in any of his “training courses.”

“Without struggle, there is no progress.”

“What? A dwarf never said that anything like that as far as I know.”

“Really? Are you sure, it sounds perfectly dwarven to me!”

“You are biased Osric, everything is said by a damn dwarf according to you. Your quote came from a famous and great human!”

“You’re talking in exclamations again, Mari, my dear.”

I stopped speaking as panic rose up in my breast, for a moment I could not right my position in the chest. The wire was gripped weakly between the forefinger-and-thumb of my right hand. Once more rogue strands of hair blinded me as it stuck to the sweat on my forehead.

“Who was it?” Osric said, I could hear faint metallic scraping and then a belch. The faint smell of roasted venison intruded the humid stickiness of the chest. My stomach growled. I made a mental note to turn Osric’s beard pink.

“What are you talking about?”

“Who said it?”

“Damn you Osric, I am stuck in a chest and you want to play famous anecdotes and quotes. Go find Marcus, he’ll love to play.”

“Not a bad idea. Bye!” I heard his weight shift on his stool.

“No! NO, OSRIC!” I began to panic as I heard his loud footsteps grow distant, the sound of a plate dropping into a sink and a heavy door closing. I also realised the light from beyond the chest had gone. I stopped hammering the inside wall with my palms and forced myself to take a breath.

“Curses!”
I forced myself to calm down, focus on the situation and ease my mind. I breathed slowly, imagining calm in the centre of a raging storm. Slowly the calm began to spread, peeling back the anger and frustration of the storm. I was the calm, I was tranquillity. I was the calm centre of the storm.

“Gods!”

Aria’s meditation rubbish never worked. Instead I examined the lock, the odd position I was in, the fine set of wires in my left hand. I calculated the variables, factored in the difficulty of the situation. After a moment, I began to work on the lock again.

As time expanded and contracted, seeming like ages had passed, I could almost see old Asmodeus’ beard growing long. Suddenly, a small scrap and click brought the lock free. I cheered in relief and slumped uncomfortably against the floor and wall of the chest.

A couple of moments later, I realised I was still sitting in a chest and pushed open the heavy lid.

“Good girl!” Osric exclaimed as he picked up the blanket he had tossed over the chest. “That was one of my me harder locks and you cracked it.” He looked a bit crestfallen at his own words.

I smiled in relief at the wily dwarf and lent forward to hug him. I planted a kiss on rough cheek. “Thank you, Osric!”

“Sure, any time,” he blushed.

“I best get home before Marcus or he will be wondering where I have got myself now.”

“Good night,” I said as I left, trying not to laugh as I exited through a secret door into the alleyway beyond.

“Night,” he called behind me.

Once safely outside, I laughed quietly to myself, as I bent over to pick Marcel off the cobbled pathway. I smiled at the sight of Osric – who now had a nice, big, bushy pink beard.

From the Journal of Marianna Merivanchi:

I took a few moments to change; casting a couple of minor weaves to clean myself up and look more presentable. Walking on to the street, I hailed a cab and instructed the driver to Old Korvosa. Checking my gear, I made sure my rapier was perfectly clean and maintained. I smiled at the fine balance and craftsmanship of the blade.

The cab rocked to and throe as we past through the streets, the sun fading slowly in the west. I felt a moment of anxiousness, realising that I may be late for my training session. I fiddled absently with my hair, then stroked Marcel’s dark coat. He purred contentedly on my lap, his tail wrapped around his body against the cold.

I spent the time admiring the city; the streets I never knew existed less than a month before. How much of the world had I missed being cooped up in the parlours of noble houses? The people went about their business in the dying light of the day, preparing to go home to families and dinner.

A guardsman bowed his head to me as the cab passed, and I smiled in return. I realised that I was not dressed in my usual manner, that I simply resembled a young woman dressed in fencing leathers, not the noble façade I so commonly presented to the world. The guardsman looked strangely familiar.

The cab pulled up to a nondescript tenement block on the edge of Old Korvosa. I picked up Marcel and nestled him under my left arm. With the other I paid and tipped the driver, instructing him to pick me up in just over an hour, if he desired a fare back to the Grey later. He smiled a toothy grin before nodding.

As the cab pulled away, I waited until it was out of sight, before placing Marcel into the comfort of his pocket. I looked around casually, as if waiting for someone and then turned towards the wall behind me. A casual passer-by, except for perceptive individuals such as Agon and Osric, would not notice the network of handholds in the brickwork. A ladder of sorts to the Shingles above – the Thieves’ Highway!

As I prepared to climb the wall in the last rays of sunlight, I heard bells in the distance heralding the new hour. I smiled and then almost jumped back off the wall when I heard someone clear their throat.

Beside me stood a small Halfling with handsome and wizened features, he was dressed like a proper gentleman though he had an air of Osric about him. He bowed his head, taking the hat from his head and raising his cane as he did so. In the next instance he righted himself, replacing the hat over his head of tight, black curls.

I noted that he wore boots, strange attire indeed for a halfling. “Evening good sir, you surprised me!” I said nervously, forgetting any thing about etiquette.

“I apologise, my dear, I had no idea that my sudden presence would have that effect!” He smiled and I noted warily that his sudden appearance had everything to do with shocking me. “Please, do you require any assistance off… or… up that wall?”

“No, I am quite fine where I am,” I puzzled myself sometimes, why did I persist on opening my mouth, “I was just examining the masonry, mister?”

“Tarhair.”

“Just Mr. Tarhair?”

“For now, my dear, I am not one for elaborate or sudden introductions.”

“Well, for one who does not care for sudden introductions,” I replied, noting 1) I was still three or so feet up a wall, and 2) where the in the hells did this halfling come from? “If you don’t mind, I was hoping to… conclude my business.”

“Go right ahead,” he said, making no move to leave. He leaned against the wall and took out a pipe. “I am here for the scenery.”

Sighing, I returned to the street and stared at the halfling. I was becoming impatient and late. “Excuse me…”

“You have not introduced yourself, my dear; it is quite rude not to introduce ones self to a gentlemen. So I have heard!”

“Huh?”

“Your name?”

“Mari?” I said absently, the smell from the pipe was intoxicating and the smoke was making me drowsy. I staggered back a step. Somewhere in the distance, I heard a cab approaching. The smell of horses was strong in the air. Panic rose through the empathic bond between me and Marcel. I forced myself to focus, taking a moment to reinforce myself against the strange, thick smoke from the pipe.

I shook my head, taking a couple of steps away from the strange halfling. He looked at me quizzically over his pipe.

“What? Who? Who are you?” I stammered.

“Mr. Tarhair, an associate of a friend of yours,” he mumbled over his pipe, “Though it would be totally inappropriate of me to give you his name, you see, as I gave my word not to do so. His gold is good, flows like the Jeggare River, so my lips are sealed.”

A cab pulled up in front of us and the halfling quickly stowed his pipe before stepping forward, towards the cab. As he pulled the door close, he nodded appraisingly and smiled. “You did well, my girl, you did well. I will be sure to let my friend know how you fared.”

With a nod to the driver and a bow of the head to me, he took his leave. I slumped against the wall, dazed and weary. Confusion threatened to rise up, but I refused to give in. Once I was myself again, I turned back towards the wall. I was unsure how to proceed. Who would believe a story about a halfling that appears out of no where and then assaults me with pipe smoke?

I began climbing to the roof. Once I was on the Shingles, I took a moment to appreciate the view and allowed the cool evening air to clear my head. When I felt settled, I started off towards my rendezvous. Of course, he was waiting for me patiently, sitting on the roof, enjoying the view of the city.

“You are late, Mari,” Vencarlo said, absently playing with a cord on his scabbard, “Our time is short enough; I cannot have a student wandering around aimlessly with a blade. She may hurt herself or someone else.”

“I apologise, master,” I said, looking down at tiles beneath my feet, “It will not happen again.”

“Do not lie to me, Mari, you and your brother will be embroiled in more trouble I am sure. It seems the scions of House Merivanchi cannot keep themselves out of adventures recently.”

“I have been practicing. Agon has been helping me with some techniques.”

“He is a solid student, though far too preoccupied with himself to be a master.”

“Are you sure this is wise, I should tell Marcus you are training me.”

“No you do not, not for a second; you are enjoying the thrill of having a secret of which your brother is ignorant. If you were so concerned about secrets, why did you not tell him about the magic?”

I was hesitant to answer, surprised, as I had no idea how to offer one. Marcus and I had always been close, like Aerodus and Talia had been close. However, at some point I wanted to be my own person, to have something that was exclusively mine. I did not tell Vencarlo this revelation of myself, I had no intention of doing so anytime soon.

He still baffled me by knowing about my magical talents.

“My secrets are my own, master. I promise I will be as honest as I can with you. If that is a problem, I will leave now?”

“Your secrets can remain your own, Marianna,” he said simply, “I have many and also have no intention of sharing them with you. As long as you are honest about your training, there is no problem between us.”

I nodded. He smiled. For the next hour, he taught me how little I knew of fencing or combat.

I wish there was a way to delete old posts!

Anyway, below I have posted the two entries again. Sorry for messing up the journal.

A third one is to follow!

Hey I'm supposed to be the one with OCD.

:-)

Hmmm ...

So that's what Mari's been up to!

I guess we know what you decided about the whole class issue. :-P