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Mother Maple grimmassed. "Disease is just another bringer of death, and any who believe otherwise are... misguided, at best. Deceived, more often, and frequently altogether corrupt. I would much prefer the omens to not play out as we fear they will. So yes, I will aid you as best I can."

She tilted her head, in thought. "I will see to it that you are cured from any disease afflicting you. Normally, this would be quite expensive, but I am certain your involvement will be worth that expense. Beyond that, I am afraid, I can not offer you much compensation without consulting with my brothers and sisters. But I can and will provide you with supplies for your expedition. The ship was flying plague lights, after all - it makes much sense to assume that it was the spark that lit this flask of oil."

Mother Maple stood by one of the reliquaries, lighting a small stick of incense before closing the shrine again. She turned towards Alandra with her usual detached expression, the public face expected of her. Alandra knew the aging woman cared deeply for her, but she had been telling people about impending death for so long, she found it hard to act any other way. She motioned the young priestess to calm herself.

"A disease, you say. Yes, that would be... expected" She folded her hands, and smiled a sad half-smile. "We have noticed this, Alandra - read the signs and examined the omens. We are preparing. If as many die as we fear, we need to bury swiftly and decisively. A dead body can infect as surely as a living one."

Looking over the others present, she added. "But I think you might not wish to merely wait this out, am I correct? Not content with speeding the dead along their passage, intent on keeping them alive longer."

The fresh-made captain scratched his neck, a little too long and too vigorous to be completely natural - it seemed the inflammation of the skin was already beginning there. Yet the man seemed intent on not acknowledging it. "Well, I guess you might as well check it. It was signalling as a plague ship, after all. But for the moment, the Field Marshal wants to keep things quiet, I suppose the riots are still fresh on everyone's mind."

After a moment of consideration, he added "You might wish to speak to the Abbadaran priest as well. He's all up in arms about this issue, and tries to get the Bank of Abbadar to formally offer aid to Queen Illeosa."

Grau actually was moving in to hug Zalen when his grim prediction took all the wind from his sails, and left him standing halfway towards him. His face twisted in a mixture of fear and incredulous disbelief. "Not you too. That Brother whom we met could not stop talking about an epidemic, and now you've jumped on that idea as well."

Somewhat less sure in his own invulernability (And after stiffling another caugh) he added. "Do you have any proof for this? Anything we might go by?"

Ayen nodded briefly towards Zalen, and let Grau in. She was the picture of helpfulness and sweetness again, quite suddenly trading her rebellious demeanor for a pretty smile, innocent eyes and doelike behaviour.

Grau entered, smiling broadly. "I came to thank you. The Abadarian priests came even before nightfall, and Brienna is well on the way to recovery. She's keeping bed for the next week, though - poor girl is still pretty weak." He stiffled a caugh, wiping his eyes and cheeks. "But that's not all I am here for."

With no small bit of pride, he pulled forth a tightly rolled-up scroll of parchment. "I just had an inivitation to the Field Marshal's office. High honors, never thought I'd see her again. She... found it fitting to personally inform me of my promotion. As of today, I am a captain of Korvosa's guard, entitled to all the privilege and position that entails." The document confirmed it. Grau, who just recently had been close to throwing his life away in the insurgency, had finally managed to get back on track.

The group discussed the cryptic musings of their deceased seer, and found Grunhild's theory to be sound - this really was the most sensible way to start things. After some discussion, they narrowed down the list of potential leads. First off, the sick girl had been pointed out relatively clearly. Also, the Abadaran priest who had initially helped her might be a good first contact - he was concerned with this new disease as it was. Finally, the sunken ship was a possible culprit. With these three leads in hand, the group had a good starting point.

Giving this a friendly kick to get the engine running again

Zellara nodded at the question, and bowed back towards the column signifying the past. "The Plague-Child is among us. Newborn and midwifed by the crows, its growth will be rapid and dire. None knows its nature yet, and thus, none will know to slay it. Left unchecked it will strangle us all."

Her eyes narrowed, as her gaze turned from the two dominant cards towards the one of lesser potency. The twin lay in the position of positive past, and she prodded it thoughtfully. "The the serpent is two-fanged. This is to our advantage, though i hesitated to see how. An open knife and a hidden thorn, but they are faces of the same coin. But each harbors the other's secret, and unmasking one in full will leave the key to unlocking the other."

It was a simple typo

The cards selected turned face towards the party before Zellara's form. She adressed Alandra first, watching her intently as she revealed her part in this new thread to Korvosa. Her card showed the Teamster, mercilessly driving his charge forward. "You will both excert and experience great pressure - but your duties will, shall, can not be cast aside. There will much toil for a servant of the lady of graves, when the time comes that you face the color of death, favor will find you." Your bonus applies to Area B

Elian received a less promising one, called "The Sickness", a card of entropy. Zellara eyed the guardsmen "Disease in Body and mind will surround you when fate conspires in your favor. When you reach the heart of our troubles, the moment shall be close at hand. Watch out well, or you might miss it." Your bonus applies to Area F2

Ironically, Grunhild received the Brass Dwarf, usually a good omen and card of fortune. Zellara, however, did not raise her hushed voice in jubilation. "The current peril leave some unharmed, for they were broken already. That which is dead inside will live outside. The nexus you seek is amidst the ashes of nobility, gorging herself on her own pain and depravity." Your bonus applies to combat with Jostalina

When Zalen's time to choose came, he picked one of the best cards of the suit - the survivor, normally signifying rebirth and celebration. "You may well prevail. Fate favors you, if you can grasp the reigns and reach the heart of the taint. Yet be careful, for every victory harbors the seeds of defeat. Rebirth brings forth saints and monsters in equal measure."

With a short motion of her hands, Zellara send the cards ashuffle, orbitting her form and finally combining themselves to a full deck. A cut later, two equal stacks landed in the hands of the party, were shuffled and cut again before Zellara motioned them to cease. She spoke a short conjuration over them, and laid out a grid of nine cards, signifying hope, prospect and danger, past, present and future.

The cards of the past turned over as one. It showed the twin, the locksmith and the midwife. Zellara meditated over the omen for some time, before announcing her findings. "The Locksmith is dominant. He symbolizes the keys of our city having been reforged. Where once all were welcome, now the gates close to some, and strangers were called in to evict those who used the old keys. The host would lock out the starving and wretched, for they mar the house. The midwife is against her type. The new arrivals are dire, births of filth and death to all who reside here. Beware the newborn, because it is death, spawned from death and favored by its mother. Only those claiming the blood of the father will be spared the plague-child's wrath."

The next column showed itself, symbolizing the present. The mountain man took the position of hope, while the Raskhasa occupied the center of the grid, and the mute Hag sitting ugly in the lowest position. "Blood has been spilled in payment, for payment. Flesh has been given for duty. Souls shall be reaped in service. The darkness is upon us, one festering wound at a time. She pecks at the wounds and rips them apart. Only once unmask will Korvos stop drinking her venomous brew." Zellara's sad gaze shifted to the future, as the sole source of solace.

"See what the future shall hold." She announced, and the last column of cards turned. The tyrant, the dance and the forge. "Tyranny will not prevail. The price will be steep, and the healing long. For some, it may never come. Faces extinguished and voices silenced will not return to us. But the darkest of darknesses shall not take hold, and as doom is forestalled, those standing against it will be like steel cast and hammered until no impurity remains. Yet be cautious, the body will need fight the feaver before proper healing can begin.

Zellara did not reply immediately, but out of the deck, nine cards pulled forth, folded before her face. "My city is the reason for me loitering behind. It has suffered, and will suffer more still - unless I can help prevent it. Maybe, eventually, that will speed me along to the boneyard your mistress prepared so carefully" She cast a glance towards Alandra.

The nine cards hovered before her. "Choose one each. It will lock your place in the coming troubles. After the choosing, I will lay the cards, and they may tell more than my dire premonitions alone"

Night had fallen in Korvosa, as the party regathered at the repurposed fishery. What had once been Lamm's treasury and retreat had now become a small office where Zalen stored both the earnings and those peaces he had no intention off parting with.

Only a single candle lit the room as the darkest hour of night approached. It cast moving shadows on the wooden walls, which seemed to dance with a life of their own. Each leap brought forth new patters of shadow and light.

Slowly, the shadows grew more vibrant, gaining hue and luminescence rather than just being plays of the wind and flame. A young woman's body moved into view, dark but not black, the tint usually associated with poverty and dishonesty among Korvosa's Chelaxian elites. Dark locks of hair, and eyes that seemed like coals waiting to be fanned to fiery life.

She took a look through the party, with a sad smile. "My city is in pain, friends. She was good to me all my life, so it is fitting i return the favor now. Yet dark days lie ahead, a test of fortitude and constitution, which is already underway.

With a flick of her wrist, she called the deck of cards to her hand, hovering in mid-air as she offered them to the group. "I need your living destiny, your connection to a fate I have passed beyond. Shuffle these cards, and I will see what I can glimpse of what is to come."

Ishani nodded, visibly relieved. "Thank you, good people. I am certain this is a good sign. I the poor girl, I always wished I could do more, and now I can, if indirectly. I will make certain someone comes looking for her right away."

Grau nodded. "Right now there's not a lot to go on, but... I've got a bad feeling about this. It may all be a coincidence, but it would be a much too... damned coincidence."

Grau's look didn't grow any less concerned. "I... well. This entire matter is highly suspicious. There have been no bodies washed ashore the next day. Very little flotsom of any value, only these... urns. I'm afraid something is very wrong with this ship, and Breeze here might just have been struck with the worst luck." He looked towards the smaller children, and leaned over conspiratorially "Also, I am not so sure the urn was all Breeze found. We heard they originally were found stuffed with silver coins."

Outside, Gern quickly caught up with the junior priest. "If you can honestly say the donation won't drive you into ruin, sir dwarf, I can have one of my brethren here before dusk, and have little Briena seen to."

I'll leave the emporium scene for your discussion for now, and continue once evening descends

Seaside home

Grau looked aghast, shocked. "You should have told me!" He said, before turning back to the group. "There was a ship coming up the Jeggare, three nights ago. It came at night, when the port was long closed, and did not fly any flag, nor light position lights. Just a single yellow lantern, I'm told. The harbor guard called in Sable Marines on night-trained Griffons, but they couldn't respond quickly enough - and one of the harbor trebuchets was fired to sink the ship, close to north bridge."

Profession (Sailor) DC 20 OR Heal DC 25

Tayce added "Brienna found some strange old urn. Ugly as hell, but worth good coin. We sold it off to a merchant we know, and what do you know, got a golden sail for our trouble. That's enough to keep all you hungry goblins fed for a long time." She tussled her youngest boy's hair.

At the Emporium

Alas, no luck for the kids either

The closing of the shop went smoothly, and the first day was a resounding success, as a beaming Aren announced when she tallied the purchases against their costs, and the items "lost" in the opening day hussle.

Yet even as Zalen was about to give everyone his thanks and congratulations, something took the festive air right out of everyone's lungs. A halo of colors materialized on the old deck of cards, now securely stored away in a shelf behind the counter. Out of the colors, the form of the shapely Varisian formed who had first brought the group together to avenge her own death. Once again her features, now translucent and unreal, were wracked with foreboding. "You have done very well for yourself, Zalen, saving Korvosa from the Edge of Anarchy - but now it stands closer to the abyss than ever before. We approach an hour of great troubles. Gather your friends, gather all you can recruit, and prepare a seance at midnight."

At the emporium

The noblewoman left the emporium, Urn in hand, with her head held high. As high as a Scion of Arkonna was probably expected to hold her head. Zalen knew the house was one of the oldest, most prominent families in the city, noblemen who held the dynasty for ransom several times. From their fortified estate in the center of Old Korvosa, they were nothing if not influential. Making an enemy of them was something that should be very carefully considered.

Knowledge: Nobility DC 15

Grunhild, however, came to a chilling realization. The visit might not have been entirely a social event. Zalen had been implicated in a crime, after all - and that might be all it took to sink a young and risky enterprise. The lady Arkonna was demonstrating she had the power to hurt this business unless all suspicions were scrubbed clean - the perfect setup for a future proposal to protect the emporiums good name - a more white-colored version of the good old protection racket.

Seaside home

Alandra's prayer forced back some life into the frame, and the girls breaths became easier, less pained. Both Grau and her mother breathed deep relief, and Grau even grasped Alandra's shoulder in a firm gesture of thanks. "I don't know how we can make this up to you, but we will find a way." At Gern's comment, he shook his head. "This is all I know. You'll have to speak with her yourself, but for the last day or so, she's been unable to hold a coherent thought. I think she..." Her mother cut her short. "Well, she... might have found something, a few days ago. When that ship was brought low in the River"

Small Seaside Home in Old Korvosa

The priest nodded, gravely. "There are brothers who can ask this boon as well, and I can scarcely imagine that they all exceeded their grace already." His face darkened visibly at the last bit - he looked worried, deeply so.

Grau joined Ellian and the others, and motioned his friend down. "Easy. We're here to help. The friends I told you about." With a desparing sigh, the woman lowered her arms, and stepped aside. "I am sorry. It's just... she's getting worse so quickly, and I don't know what I've been doing wrong." The hardship of the recent days bend the woman's shoulders, yet she kept her head high in defiance.

Behind the door, a small sleeping room lay, outfitted with three beds, two of them standing unusued. In the last, the pale figure of a girl of ten winters lay, covered in sweat and delirious from feaver. Her entire face was on fire with inflammation that seeped blood and pus in equal measure. Each breath was audibly a chore to her, and the bloody veil tainted her features, turned them more akin to a mourner than a young girl on the cusp of womanhood.

Heal DC 12

At the emporium

Zalen knew the Noblewoman relished the scene, loved the attention, and adored watching him squirm under the accusation - but he also knew his offer left her little choice but to cut his fun short. Other than a dirty look, she was powerless to keep up the assault. "Very well. Jendar, take care that it reaches the estate unaltered. I will expose this den of vipers for what it is."

She smirked at Zalen, taking much less notice of the others. "My name is Mellisande Arkonna, second daughter of Mintra Arkonna. You'd do well not to forget that name."

Perception DC 17

Perception DC 23

Small Seaside Home in Old Korvosa

Somewhat taken aback by the cold greeting from the two, the Abadaran priest nevertheless tried to salvage the encounter in some way. "Well, Sir Dwarf, there is two sides to this coin. The more glittering one is that I already asked for this particular blessing this day." He bowed his head slightly. "The less polished one relates to my church's teachings. I am not allowed to spread the powers Abadar entrusted to us without some form of recompense - so my learning of herbs, sicknesses and the natural healing arts will have to do. It would not do to have her healthy, but her family starve to death over it. So I do what I can without magic. It is not breaking any rule, and so far, I feel I have done at least some good this way."

From inside the house, a deep, hacking cough emanates, audible even on the street, and assuredly painful. The priest winced involuntarily, and suckled on his own lips. "I just pray you can aid her, she is getting worse so very quickly."

At the Grand Opening

The Noblewoman's shrieking came to an even higher pitch as Ayen shot her a glance that promised very unpleasant events - but Zalen's timely intervention cut that risk short. Somewhat mollified, the noblewoman adjusted her shawls, and pointed towards an urn, purportedly from Nidal, and containing the ashes of an ancient vampire - yet probably containing but dust and memories, considering that the item was lacking any magic and not even closing tightly anymore. All in all, a conversation piece, scarcely worth the 30 gold he expected to make after haggling, and surely not the asking price.

"This, these urns were on the ship they sunk in the Jeggare three nights past. I am sure of it. The ship with the yellow lights. Surely, they were smugglers to supply your store. I heard urns like these were seen as salvage." She seemed sincere, if a bit shrill. "What do you say in your defense, proprietor? Why do you have posession of the cargo dark smugglers were bringing into our fair city at the dead of night?"

Small Seaside Home in Old Korvosa

As the group reached the small, dilappitated home, once more the harsh realities of Korvosan life struck home. For all the cities splendor, its worst-off children still scraped by much as they did in any city. As urchins, half-forgotten and half-ignored.

The small home Grau brought them looked none too different from the rooms Lamm's thugs had taken. A house, rotting beams supporting it, whitewash stained dirty brown from years of fumes and neglect. Yet as Grau moved his hand to open the door, it moved seemingly on its own.

A young man, black hair and pleasant, fair skin opened it. He had a grim smile on his lips, and wore the yellow-and-white Robe of a junior priest of Abbadar, the first vault's keeper. God of cities and some say even civilization itself. "Ah, greetings good people. I suspect you come here to see our little patient? You better be careful. I do not know what this illness is, and even though her mother and siblings seem so far unaffected, I am not certain they might not eventually be."

At the Grand Opening

The coming and going of customers remains steady during the day, and the wonders imported from all corners of the world drew a sizeable chunk of Korvosa's creme. Many of the more expensive pieces, thought off as probable fixtures, were gone by the end of the opening day, almost offsetting the cost of refurbishing the fishery and acquisition of wares. It was a glorious day, all said.

Yet before it was all done, a last sour note had to be played. A young noblewoman of Arkona had just made her tour of the Vudran section, and went into a shrieking fit. "You monsters. Pirates and smugglers all of you. You dare claim this Emporium a place of business when you would bring stolen goods and brazenly display them? A shame on you, and all who come here, this place is"

Her antics were loud, hard to overlook and impossible not to hear.

Fear not, I've got the dreaded splitscene prepared. Just go along as it feels natural to you

The sergeant breathed a sigh of relief, and nodded thankfully towards Zalen. "Thank you, Zalen. I know I could trust you to come to my aid in this. She's been in a precarious state for about two days now. I do not know how exactly she got it - probably playing with a friend of hers close to the river, in Old Korvosa." The man didn't seem to mind the implied further obligation - his mind was clearly focussed on helping his little niece rather than what it would cost him in the longer run.

With a gesture, he added. "I don't really know what sickness this is - the closest thing the herbalist could say was bloodcaugh, but that fails to explain the blotches. They said the only sure cure they knew off was a divine favor." He went on to describe the sympthoms of the girls strange affliction. A high feaver with occasional spikes that cause delirium, a persistent bloody caugh, shortness of breath bordering on suffocation. Red blotches spreading from the nose, lips and other exposed tissues to the nearby skin, causing blisters that ooze blood and pus.

Heal DC 15:

Grau looked somewhat apprehensive, as more people started joining the clandestine meeting, but Zalen's cordial greeting put him somewhat at ease. Despite his worried face, he looked much better than at their last meeting. Not only had he shaved well, his clothes looked clean and generally well-kept.

"I am sorry to have to impose on you again, Mister Candorian" he finally opened the discussion proper. "But I am at the end of my wits, and the matter seems urgent, beyond urgent."

He looked to the sides, and with a swift, decisive motion of the hand, broke the mental dam. "I do not know if you ever met, or even heard of my brother. He passed on a year ago, leaving behind a widow and two children. I have helped her as best I could, but as you well know, I could not do much for them until you set me straight. Now, just as I get back to my feet, there is a crisis I can not deal with just yet. My niece has taken ill, seriously ill. For three days she has had high fevers, severe caughs, frequently tinged with blood. She needs more aid than an Old Korvosan herbalist can provide, and what little I could put down was wasted when the healer told her to stay in bed and sweat it out. She needs a magical cure or else I fear she won't last the week."

His distress plainly visible, the man bit his lips, ashamed of the outburst. "I don't ask you for more charity, but I have little to put down as security on a loan."

The grand day had finally arrived, the re-opening of the Candorian Emporium. Treasures from the width of Golarion, now at home in Korvosa at affordable prices. Flimsy garments supposedly from distant Vudra send young girls giggling and blushing as they imagined themselves in such scandalous clothes. A magister of the Academae examined the statuette of an imp with more than passing curiosity, trying to place its origin, and if it predated the current dynasty.

Zalen's family was well-occupied cashiering, shooing overly-curious patrons from the storerooms, and occasionally putting items "accidentially" dropped into someone's bag back to their shelves. Their time as pickpockets and street thugs had taught them well enough what to look out for.

One visitor in particular, however, was not too interested in the wares. It was Grau, the Sergeant Zalen had found on his doorsteps during the worst of the "recent unrest", as the near civil war was now referred to. He looked worriedly, tried to find the master of the house.

Feel free to finish up any conversations, I just figured I'd give you an anchor to start the adventure for real

No, this rather free "getting to know each other" is exactly what I had hoped for. Keep going, once this dies down I'll start the chapter in earnest :)

Elian & Zalen:

Narsel & Alandra:

Grunhild & Gern:

After the botched and very publicly humiliation of the botched Execution, a leaden silence descended on Korvosa, with the city licking its wounds. A quickly thrown-up veneer of normalcy formed, with none willing to scratch too deeply at it, for fear of the unhealed wounds just underneath.

Elian:

Narsel Fachey:

Grunhild

Alright, get to know you time. :)

With Blackjack drawing off most of the pursuit, expertly dodging the watch with both flash and superior knowledge of the city, the party was able to complete their getaway, hide the evidence, and retreat to Zellara's old house. The excitement of the evening still fresh on their minds, they can now enjoy a brief respite.

Feel free to finish up the scene and the adventure. You level up to level 4. You gain money as discussed on the OOC thread. I'll start up "Seven Days" either this weekend or next, time permitting.

"I shall leave that to your conscience, friends. I for one believe that trueborn sons of Korvosa stand by its side when darkness falls." Blackjack replied, adressing the crowd as much as Zalen and Krek. With these words, the flamboyant swordsman gripped Trinia tightly, and lept right over the battlements, cloak fluttering as the pair descended towards the streets below swiftly, but noticably slowed - enough to not elicit any sign of pain or injury.

Zalen's close examination of the masked hero was frustratingly ineffective. He wasn't even certain if he was close to a man or a woman, young or old, man, elf or mixed breed. The cloak and mask obscured any telltale rounds, ears and other characteristics - and likely were enchanted for just that purpose. The only characteristic he found that was unique was the fighting style the masked avenger used. It reminded him of the florishes and exaggerated movements of Taldan fencing at first, but the brutal thrusts and unexpected direct assaults were more Chelish. He had seen this particular school before, taught by dozens of small schools. It was the Orisani style. Yet Blackjack was no mere immitator, but a master of the art. Most teachers would not be able to replicate his mastery. In fact, likely there were but four people who could muster this level of skill. Sabina Merrin, currently escorting her misstress into the castle was very unlikely to be on the battlements at the same time. So it left Grau Soldano, the washed-out master student, Cressinda Kroft, and Master Orisani himself.

Alandra and Krek arrived close to Gern and Zalen at the time Blackjack left. The surging crowd was emptying from the courtyard as the alarm bells began ringing, summoning the city guard to the scene. The ground was growing hot...

Blackjack gave Illeosa a mocking salute as she withdrew into Castle Korvosa. "Flee the people's wrath for as long as you can, my Queen. It will not help you for long"

Gern and Zalen arrived almost at the same time, the latter leaving the grey maiden behind himself to suffer the wrath of the crowd as it washed over her again. Alandra would follow soon, having to weave and duck through the angry commoners and frightened noblemen alike.

With a subdued whisper, Blackjack adressed the two close to him. "I will get Trinia out of the city, but you need to cover me for a while. Do you have a means of escaping yourself?"

Trinia hissed to Gern "I'll manage. I can probably wiggle free if I have enough time and space, but any help will be appreciated." And with him offering a blade to her assistance, the girl slid the bonds relatively easily, and the two of them managed to get out of the fog - close to the gate, where city guards were busy containing the growing riot. Yet close to them, the ramps towards the ramparts beckoned, with Blackjack fencing two guardsmen to a standstill. "Over here, good folks! Let us be quick and leave Illeosa with nothing but ashes in her mouth."

Zalen emerged from the Fog just below the masked avenger's position, the maiden closely following him. The woman's blood-splattered blade missed him by mere handwidths, and from her full helmet, a sound half a roar, half a whimper emerged as she lunged for the rogue once again - to no avail. Yet there was one problem - he would either have to jump, and grab a tenacious handhold on the battlements, close to blackjack, or else dart past her towards the rapidly closing gate.

Alandra exited the fog closest to the gate, where she was carried in the people fleeing the scene. Following the tide would be easy, safe - but would leave Zalen and Gern to fend for themselves - for the moment.

Illeosa, on the other hand, seemed to have had enough. With a hasty movement, she ordered Sabina and the remaining "Roses of Korvosa" to her side, where they took a defensive posture, and escorted her back into the keep. The monarch's face was teeming with fury, undilluted unadultered hate and rage. This humiliation would not be forgotten soon or easily.

A great mist envelops the scene, completely surrounding the struggling guardsmen, ensuing brawlers, brave rescuers and stalwards of the throne alike. Just feet away, mere shadows can be seen, and all sound is muffled.

Alandra:

Zalen:

Gern:

I want to play this scene very cinematically. No rolls are necessary right now. Just describe your action, and we'll see where it goes. :) It's an experiment.

Full Anarchy erupted as Zalen released his ghostly sounds, with the rabble erupting half into panic, half into angry shouts at the stand as the long list of grievances was called back into memory. The raising discent was punctuated by an impacting thud as an arrow embedded itself in the headsmen's arm. The axe dropped from his shocked fingers, and embedded itself in the wooden floor next to the block. All eyes darted to the battlement, where two incapacitated royal guardsmen lay.

A lithe figure stood among them, bow still in hand. It raised its voice, which carried clearly even over the din. The speaker was clad in a black, cheap cloak. The face was hidden from view by a simple black mask, and the cloak and body-suit conceiled any other feature well enough that even the gender of the assailant was not clearly visible. Calls of "Blackjack" raced through the crowd, and even they could not drown out the words.

"Yes indeed, my queen! Let us usher in justice, but let that be justice for Korvosa, not this shambles you petulantly call a monarchy! Long live Korvosa! Down with the Queen!"

Trinia needed no further words of encouragement. She slipped free of the bonds that held her, between the legs of one of her distracted captors whose impractical helmets seemed to restrict their vision. She rolled into the crowd, close to the legs of Gern. "Sir Dwarf, Sanctuary? We need to get away from the castle!"

Zalen saw the common section of the courtyard afire from Blackjack's speech. They threatened to overrun the barricade separating them from the nobles, who stood baffled and frightened. Blackjack motioned towards the battlement that had served as a vantagepoint.

Once more, Korvosa stood on the edge of Anarchy. Zalen was thick in the fray, surrounded by a young girl screaming "Death to the Harlot Queen", an elderly man sharing the sentiment, and an raising tide of Calls for "Blackjack", the once and again hero of the common folk of Korvosa. His spell just added to the confusion, disabling one of the masked guardswoman who gasped in horror and pain as her body slumped to the side. Another stood confused as well, but shrugged of the spell quickly, beginning to plow through the nobles towards the originator.

Illeosa stepped forward, and her voice carried clearly over the murmor and discussions that filled the square “Fellow Korvosans! You have suffered greatly these past few weeks. Homes have burned, family members have died, fortunes have been lost. I feel your suffering, for not only have I lost a beloved husband, but with each riot, each burning home, each act of anarchy, my heart bleeds a little more. This has been a trying time for us, yet the torment is at an end. Before you is the face of your anguish and pain. Do not be deceived by this murderer’s timid nature—she is a black-hearted assassin, a seductress and sinner, a viper amidst us all. I offer you all her death as a salve against the hatred and hurt you have suffered. Her death will not rebuild Korvosa, nor will it bring back the king, yet tomorrow will be a new dawn—a dawn over a city ready to rise from the edge of anarchy to become stronger than ever before!"

Trinia was forced onto the block roughly, managing a brave, though hopeless smile. As the group launched themselves into action, Illeosa pronounced “And so, without further delay, let us usher in this new dawn
with justice! OFF WITH HER HEAD!”

There was a strong movement of whispers and anxiety gripping the crowd, drawing attention from the grisly act the queen had ordered. It was a golden opportunity, if ever there was one before Trinia lost her head.

I'll assume Alandra times things correctly so she casts her spell once Trinia is brought to the stand

The plaza slowly filled to capacity, leaving ample ambling space in the noble section, but choking the common one with curious onlookers as the spectacle began to unfold and thicken. Two drummers from the royal regiment rolled their drums, and Queen Ileosa Arabasti strode forth from the keep, accompanied on both sides by two young woman in plate armor. Their armor was an ashen gray, and their cloaks matched it. The armor seemed tight and had no visible seams of opening, including the narrow, uncomfortable-looking helmets closing off their faces. These helmets, just faceless masks without accents with the barest holes for eyes were putting an even more disconcerting accent on the already-strict appearance, robbing the four woman of any last vestige of individuality.

Perfectly in step, they escorted the most stunning contrast possible. Ileosa no longer was a widow in mourning. She had turned into a very alife, very confident rules. Her tight but exquisite green dress accented her figure, and her extravagant fen was well-used to keep attention of any attendant solidly directed at her direction.

At the same time, a smaller door was opened on the opposite side of the courtyard. A towering man, maybe a half-breed with orcish ancestry exited, hefting a huge headsmen's axe. Behind him, four more of the masked woman dragged a beaten and bruised Trinia behind them. She seemed fully intent to move, having consigned herself to her fate, but the woman gave her no chance to gather her feet beneath her. So she stumbled, almost fell, and was dragged like a sack of flour, to mixed cheers and jeers from the crowd.

The courtyard opening to the podium was glowing in the dusklight as the execution drew nearer and nearer. The affair had been put into a public spectacle, with noblemen separating from the common chaff by velvet ropes and stern-faced members of the royal guard. The courtyard had been separated almost in twain, with the section closes to the stage reserved for the nobility, the well-known or the heroic.

As you arrive, the common section is already well-visited, though not as overcrowded as it promised to become later on, while the noble half was still comfortably empty. Lords and Ladies stood scattered about, each in festive clothes, flitting around as if the occasion was a grand gala rather than the execution of a kingslayer.

Knowledge: Local 10

Hawkers pushed their wares on passing visitors. Just barely out of sight, a gaggle of working girls waited for patrons whom the bloodshed had intoxicated in an entirely different way - it promised to be a very profitable eve for some Korvosans at least.

Kroft listened to the discussion ensuing, and a small smile appeared on her face, still not beaming but at least somewhat hopeful. "I think you should have matters well enough in hand. You should try to be among the first tenth of the attendants to be close to the podium, but other than that... thank you. I will try and drum up some more support."

After a short glance to make sure no further questions arose, she turned and left the group to their own devices.

You've got about 8 more hours until you should be at the scene. Unless anything is interspersed, I'll go ahead and post the finale of Edge tomorrow.

The Field Marshall swiftly made a motion encompassing the entirety of the market, its animal sounds, loud haggling and half-screamed conversations. If there was any location where being overheard was unlikely, this was it. "Sir Dwarf, I understand your distaste, but consider the advantages."

"She's going to display her 'Roses of Korvosa' for the first time. Most of them former guardswoman, but now they're under Sabina's thumb. I would like to avoid casualties." Her voice had lowered itself to near inaudibility, with a lingering gravity, that spoke volumes on how hard this was on the career officer.

She bowed down a little lower. "I might be able to effect some additional help that will make things easier. I can not promise anything, and I am pretty confident that if I manage to get that aid, I will not be able to help you myself."

Considering Zalen's suggestions, she added "I would recommend cloaks, face masks and the like. There will be chaos and confusion, and reports of your actions and appearances will vary wildly anyway. Too much work will only increase your chances of being spotted ahead of time. Once you are past the citadel, race out of the city. The shingles should be the best way. Drop to the sewers at the first chance, and out near the river. I will have a boat waiting near the old abandoned fishery you found the bauble."

"Let's meet in early morning hours at the cattle market. There we'll have lots and lots of cover, and still some time to put anything into motion." The field marshall replied, sighing. The was another moment where her eyes glistened, but the prospect of being able to act propped up the woman better than anything else. "Also, this would not put us into depth with the most notorious madame of the docks."

She looked Zalen into the eyes earnestly. "If you act, and fail. I doubt I'd be spared the headsmen. Sabina knows of my connection to you, and I.. I am afraid I wasn't exactly subtle about my disapproval. But if things came to the worst, I would make sure they are taken care of to the best of my ability. They have no part in this." She took a long look at the assemblage, and nodded. "Tomorrow, then. Better a murderer to go free than to kill an innocent woman. Because only one of them turns me into a murderer."

In the morning, the market was overflowing with traffic. Now that the quarantine and curfew was loosened, trade returned in force. Sheep were bought and sold by the flock, cows and goats filled the air with smells strong and none too alluring. Kroft approached the party in close to a bartering merchant. She was wearing plain clothes - remarkably plain, unlike her usual attire. She almost seemed like a peasant woman. "So, you've heard about the execution. Huge crowd there, most likely. She's being hauled right up from the dungeons, they say. But with that many people looking on, I hope they can really keep security. I mean, if anyone really goes out of their way to free the assassin, they'd probably make their move right at the stand."

The field Marshall shook her head. "They know I'm here, probably. Sabina noticed how little I liked this, and I think I wasn't too subtle going here either." She looked towards the door Gern had motioned to, and understanding dawned on her. "I should leave, friends. You can't be seen around my office right now, not if you plan to do anything."

She pursed her lips, and decided to adress Gern specifically. "I have no trouble putting someone to death if there is no doubt as to their misdeeds. I would much prefer the proper way, but as you know, results before formalities. But with her, I don't know. Too many things are unclear, and too many just do not add up."

As Zalen checked the room, he found Ayen whipping them into shape with harsh words. She looked like a fury unleashed, and the other children had taken back several steps from her. Tiny Pirisa was even crying silently. "And when Mister Candorian says he has to have privacy, you stay away from the walls. Don't make me angry. We have it good with him."

Kroft bitterly shook her head when Zalen asked her about the details, and raised her shoulders. "We'll never know if she was guilty. Any trial she'll receive now is sure to include Illeosa, maybe a fake confession and certainly a guilty sentence. Heck, even if she killed our late king, that would still not be right."

She rose, moved away into a more sensible distance, and continued her tale. "I think Illeosa does not care of she did it or not - or if she can prove it. She cares about a public spectacle to rally the city behind her, and cement her position as queen. Some question her legitimacy, and putting the killer of her husband to death demonstrates her being in control."

Marshall Kroft took the goblet Alandra had handed to her, and took a huge gulp, not really tasting it, just chucking the wine away like one would usually do with cheap alcohol. "I don't think we can do much. While she's in the dungeons, she's beyond me. I can't turn to my men I can't ask them to betray the city. We can't ambush her in transit. Sabina will be there, and she's much better than me or any of us. If anything can even be done, it is in the courtyard, just when she faces the headsmen."

She went through the situation in more detail... and it really did not sound all too well. The dungeons of castle Korvosa were designed to prevent both outbreaks as well as liberations - being construed to hold revolutionaries and political prisoners as well as common criminals. In transit would be a highly protected parade, and only take her from the dungeons to the courtyard either way. Little time, hard to reach - impractical. Besides, the "Roses" and Sabina were going to handle the transfer as well.

The breakdown wasn't about to go over gently, as the weeks of harshness broke way. The tears kept streaming out of her eyes like a river. She managed to get her sniffling under control after a while, though. She managed to become somewhat more coherent. "I don't know how to get her back, that is the point. If there was something I could do, I would."

She hugged herself gritting her teeth. Still the tears kept falling. From the room Zalen had banished the kids into, some sounds were audible. Yet Kroft didn't, couldn't be hurried. "Sabina took her, personally. I have no more say in this matter. Illeosa will "judge" herself, as is her right as monarch. She probably has done so, already.

She described in brief, clipped sentences what she knew. There were dungeons under the Castle, dungeons not overseen by the guard, but by the royal elite regiment. Sabina was in command of them, and had made very clear that she considered Cressinda's part past concluded. Nothing short of a full-fledged case of mutiny (of which she lacked support) or a clandestine raid (which she doubted to be possible) would spring Trinia from the prison.

The commander's despair only rose as she regarded that she had been more or less informed on the outcome of the trial by being ordered to vacate the courtyard, and prepare for a public spectacle.

The marshal tried to speak, but tears kept streaming down her face. "Sabina, she came. She... she overruled me on account of Illeosa. She took the girl, Trinia..." Another wave of sobs wracked her body. "She and her 'Roses' took her away, I don't know to where. Probably castle dungeons, and said this would be done come next evening."

She grasped a handkerchief, and blew her nose in it, roughly cleaned her face - to no avail. "They made me break my word of honor, Sabina made me less than a street harlot. I asked you to trust me, and now I can't justify that trust anymore."

And with this, I am off for my hiking trip. Enjoy your break, everyone ;)

Kroft stumbled into the room, disolving into tears almost entirely. She was not hurt visibly, not bruised nor bleeding... but she was obviously beyond her capacity to endure. She cried "I'm sorry" over and over again. There wasn't much more to be made out for the moment.

It took some time and gentleness to return her to some semblance of sanity. Her face, behind which she had retreated more and more as her abuse of the reviving magics she had ample access to had grown more severe was now afire with tears and looked more like a heartbroken young girl than the tough, in-control military woman she usually was. "I am sorry. I gave you my word, but I could not keep it. I'm sorry. I... I did not think this could even happen. You must believe me, I had no idea, you simply must."

The children hurried into the next room, ushered outside by the ever in-control Ayen, and the party took their position by the door, when Zalen demanded their unexpected urgent visitor. "Please, I need to speak to you!" The visitor demanded, and the voice sounded all too familiar... It sounded like Field Marshal Kroft - that was, if Kroft was close to a mental breakdown and trying not to fully panic by any means she could muster.

With the aid of the illusion, and Zalens good knowledge of the streets and alleyways of Korvosa prevented both clashes with angry mobs (which were converging on her previous hiding-hole) and patrols of guardsmen who were not privy to their special mission.

They managed to deliver her safely to Longacre Building, where Trinia moved towards the dungeons with head hung. Two guardsmen strongarmed her into the building, but no further resistance was given... she had put her hope on the fairness of the trial Field Marshal Kroft had promised.

The field marshal was unavailable for a direct meeting due to an important consultation - which was hinted to involve her loyal majesty herself. However, the desk sergeant handed a bill worth 1000 gold pieces from the royal treasury.

The party retreated Zalen's home to a meal fashioned lovingly by Zalen's young ward, Ayen. Just when she procured her lavish (yet sadly, not experty) prepared meal, an urgent knocking sound almost to the point of bashing open the door sounded. It contrasted strangely, unpleasantly with the otherwise pleasant late summer evening.

Trinia seemed sincerely out of the fighting mood. Her posture had changed to quiet resignation, and unwillingness to further fight. "I promise I did nothing wrong. But beyond my word, I can't offer much. How could I? Proving your innocence tends to be tricky."

As she was tacitly allowed the freedom to cast her spell, she went through her belongings swiftly, and began to hum a few subdued notes. Zalen couldn't quite make it out, but her face began to shift into a much broader form, and her figure became much less lithe, heavier-set and a bit less graceful. "This might keep us away from mobs. Won't last very long, but with all the commotion, getting out of the neighborhood in one piece is the tough thing."

Krek and Gern found her words all too true. While the guardsmen and Sable Marine were not coming back at the moment. However, interest in the normal citizens had spiked, with several otherwise unremarkable people poking their noses out of their windows, the more daring ones stepping before their doorsteps, and congregating into the tiny puddles of people that precipated into mobs at the proper provocation.

Trinia stopped her vain struggles after a short time, and submitted to the indignity of being carried by Ayedah rather quietly. "Alright... If you are dead-set in it... I can't well fight all of you at the same time. Will you give me a chance to disguise myself? All I need is a little space and free hands. I promise I won't run. I did my running for today, and you lot are better at it."

She looked over the group, and her fighting spirit seemed to have gotten a significant damper. Not eager anymore to continue the flight, but instead consigned. "I'll see if that Kroft character is at all interested in what I have to say, or eager to have our beloved queen put on a bit of a show for the crowd."

Ayedah and Alandta managed to make their way down to the streets, joining up with the three of them. The minstrel tried hard to stand again, but her broken ankle precluded that rather completely. "Please, let me go. I'll do anything, just... don't make me go to the dungeons." She pleaded, looking among the other woman for some kind of support.

Trinia struggled to regain some semblance of self-control. She tried hard, but could not stiffle her sobs and when Krek threatened to further harm her, she tried to squirm out of his grasp - to no avail. "Please, just let me go." She whispered. "I've done nothing wrong, I swear. Please. I couldn't ever do something so evil."

Trinia screamed in abject psnic as Zalen gripped her, and an audible snap signalled her ankle shattering. Both of them plummeted towards the street-in an odd kind of slow motion more akind to someone slowly diving into deeper waters, almost able to swim against the movement, but not quite. Trinia whimpered the entire way down, and collapsed into a sobbing heap as they came to ground. She tried to form words, but they did not come out right, so Zalen could only guess them to be protestations of her innocence and pleas for mercy.

Krek and Gern faced the guardsmen for a moment longer, but his strict gaze gave way to a certain weariness. "Hells... not again. Be on your way, now. This does not need any innocent bystanders." He declared, and swiftly turned towards the direction Gern had invented to rally and rampage in. The Sable marine, seeing the sudden motion, also spurred his winged mount into action, and followed the soldier along the false lead.