"Wait, you're here for the meeting too?" Ten asked Esmerelda, before stepping back outside. Looking around, he realised that the only way to get the high strung Abadarians to settle down, and answer any questions, would involve satisfying their need to have a look at the building's rooftop.
"Both of you can stay down here, holding crossbows, and I'll go have a look," he told the both of them as he headed towards the crates. "Dwarf, you're involved somehow; give me a boost..."
Ten finds the going tough, although the initial leg-up is easy and the rough walls certainly help, he manages to get half-way up the wall before running out of readily available ways to leverage his body higher. Unlike Pagrip, though, he manages to keep sticking to the wall. His eyes locked to the roof's edge above him he grits his teeth, wavering between giving up or trying harder!
"Gods, I dread the paperwork if we have to explain why we were on the scene when a civilian fell off a Harrower's roof onto a dwarf," Caulder mutters to Esmerelda.
"" he shouts to Ten. "You've got healing left for the day, right?" he asks Esmerelda quietly.
Pagrip stands up after falling, rubbing his behind. "I knew I'd regret this."
He watches as the newly arrived Varisian man attempts to climb up, but gets stuck part way up. He shakes his head and almost turns to leave, but stops. "Ah, what the hell. You want a push?"
Pagrip backs up a bit, takes a running leap and tries to give the Varisian enough of a push to help him reach the top.
Returning outside, Esmerelda looks sternly to Caulder
"Involving outsiders in what might be dangerous."
Then she looks up at the roof
"Baradin, cover me with that crossbow and do try not to shoot any innocents. I'm going up."
Pagrip's leap of lifting manages to reach the Varisian, who receives a slightly unexpected but notable push. The momentary ease of weight might be enough to get him to the top.
Ten made a mental note that the dwarf's interpretation of 'a simple boost' differed from his own. The running-leap-shoulder-butt did, however, give him that little bit of extra of upward movement. Grunting, Ten hauled himself further upwards.
Ten successfully gets first one hand, and then the second onto the ledge on top. With a strong "Hyyyaaaah!" he forces himself upwards, finally getting a clear view.
Before he can react a vicious sting strikes his cheek, and for a moment he's nearly overwhelmed with a sleepy lethargy. Just as his fingers threaten to slip from the top he rallies and gets a good idea of what is going on. A few feet in-front of him, on the roof, lies a miniature dragon - he recognizes it as a pseudodragon - amidst a small bed of sticks, straw and twigs; it chirps and hisses at him in equal measure bluster and worry, and in his mind he hears: "Begone! Begone before you incur my wrath, mortal!"
Despite the surprise, Ten realizes that the plump creature sitting squat in its nest is trying desperately to hide a clutch of eggs under its body and is lashing out at him to defend its home and offspring.
Pseudodragons are a fairly common site in Korvosa, though a pest themselves, they are encouraged to nest here to combat the greater nuisance of imps, which swarm the city in similarly common manner.
Trying to ignore the pain, Ten, still hanging from the edge of the roof, tried to recall everything he knew about pseudodragons. He tried to remember what would work in such a situation...flattery?
"I, er, do apologise for the... unexpected intrustion, um, your magnificence? Please excuse me..." Ten mumbled as he dropped back down from the wall. Turning to the others, while absentmindedly rubbing his wounded cheek, "Pseudodragon - guarding her nest."
Esmerelda shouts up from below:
"Pseudodragon? We mean you no harm, little one. Have you perchance seen another up there, not counting that human of course?"
Typical Abadarians, jumping at shadows!
"Can you hear that angry hissing up there? If there was anybody else up there, we would have heard the little lizard."
"Get back down here before you hurt yourself, man. Baradin and I did see something up there but it must have left by now."
Turning to Caulder, Esmerelda growls
"Enough of this. Lets get inside and wait for whoever comes"
With that Esmerelda turns and walks into the Harrowers shop, takes a chair and places it against the wall, sits on it, crosses her arms and waits.
Without the tension to mar her thought, Esmerelda has a chance to note subtle details about the room. Particularly how they have a slight blurred quality stemming from the fragrant incense that burns along wall-mounted holders. Something under the table catches her eye, a basket covered with a blue cloth, and there's a bit of a note exposed.
Esmerelda spots a basket under the table with a note on it. She gets up, picks up the note and returns to her seat to continue her wait while reading the note.
"Why not put this on top of the table? This would have changed things." she mumbles to herself.
"Abadar's scales," Caulder mumbles as his cheeks color slightly in embarrassment. All this fuss over a pseudodragon! "We're with the Bank of Abadar!" he shouts up to the roof angrily. "You could have identified yourself; we don't want your eggs!" Damned flighty creatures. Might as well deal with the imps; at least they're a straightforward threat. He clears his throat with an angry harrumph. "Errm, well done, citizen," he calls up to Ten. "Your cooperation is appreciated. Be careful climbing down." He waits to make sure Tendrizu makes it down the wall safely and seems very intent on watching his descent, avoiding the dwarf's eye.
From inside, Esmerelda shouts
"Baradin! If you have quite finished playing with the psuedodragon, you should see this."
"Pseudodragon, Pagrip mutters. "So much fuss for something so little."
Still rubbing his butt from when he fell, he calls up, "Do you need any help getting back down?"
"No, I should be fine." Ten replied as he lowered himself down from the roof, back on to the crates.
After untangling himself from the crates (waving away any help from the dwarf or Abadarian, offered or not), Ten made his way into the house.
Caulder groans as he reads the note the paladin has found. "She sets a meeting for sunset and then suddenly has to 'step out?' We might as well be meeting with the pseudodragon. All right," he says out loud, pulling out one of the high-backed chairs and straddling it like he's mounting a horse, "so everyone here got one of these?" He pulls the Harrow card depicting a dwarf at a forge out from within his tunic and sets it on the table.
"Different card, but same basic idea," Pagrip says. He pulls out his card depicting the juggler and places it beside Caulder's. Grabbing the note, he quickly reads it over, then shrugs and takes a seat.
"So," he says. "I guess you're all the others the card mentions. I'm Pagrip Staurmbar."
"Caulder Baradin, priest of Abadar," he responds automatically and unnecessarily, as his garb has already unmistakeably communicated his profession. "And you, Darkbane?" He turns narrowed eyes inquisitively to the woman. "What do you have to do with this?"
Eyebrow arched, Esmerelda simply looks at Caulder. Then as it looks like he is about to say something more, she interrupts him.
"You do not sound pleased at my presence."
Then holds up a hand, to prevent any interjection.
"No need to explain."
Taking out her "invitation" depicting a paladin, she shows it around the room.
"Esmerelda Darkbane. Paladin of Abadar. This meeting is about Lamm. I will say it plainly now so that you all understand. He will be brought to justice. By that, I mean arrested and brought before a judge."
Anger creeps into her voice as she continues.
"If this little group was brought together to take justice into its own hands, I ... will ... stop ... it."
She punctuates each word by banging her fist on the table, unknowingly crumpling the harrow card in her grip. Rising she turns from the gathering and seems to compose herself. Quietly she apologises as she retakes her seat, her face taking on a darker shade whether from anger or embarrassment is hard to tell.
"Excuse my outburst."
After allowing Esmerelda a moment to calm down, trying to avoid an uncomfortable silence following her tirade, Ten quickly added his own card, depicting a bear, to the collection. "Tendrizu Arentz".
"Welcome," says a voice, shortly afterwards revealed to belong to an attractive middle-aged Varisian woman. She stands in the doorway and nods to the four. As she enters she produces a Harrow deck from her pocket and shuffles it with the practiced ease of a professional - the cards practically dance in her hands, an effect that is increased when each of the cards given to Esmerelda, Caulder, Ten and Pagrip moves of its own accord and rejoins its brethren.
She smiles, but the sincerity of the smile is undermined by a deep sadness that lingers in her eyes. "Thank you for coming, friends. And thank you for putting up with my unconventional methods. A terrible man, Gaedren Lamm, would harm me greatly if he knew I was reaching out for help. I know that each of you is familiar with this man, whose capacity for cruelty and ability to destroy the lives of those he touches is only matched by his capacity to avoid reprisal."
"A year ago thieves stole my Harrow deck, an heirloom that has been passed down in my family for generations. My son, Eran, tracked them down and recovered the cards - but the thieves, on Lamm's behest, had him murdered. The Guard turned me away when I pleaded for help. But I have means of my own, through bribes and my Harrow deck I have found where Gaedren Lamm dwells now. The Guard would not be able to act fast enough on this information, so I've sought help elsewhere - from you. Each of you have suffered under Lamm's hand; I hope that your desire to make good on old sorrows is as strong as mine. I hope, please, that you can bring the justice to Gaedren Lamm that has escaped him for so long!"
To the new arrival:
"I am sorry about your son. Many have suffered at the hands of Lamm. Tell me that vermins location so that I may finally drag him out from under is rock into the light of judgement. I would also suggest that once our business is concluded here that you remain hidden until he is captured. I recommend The Bank of Abadar as a safe place to stay. Before we continue, I wish to say something to the others."
Turning to the others in the room:
"I do not doubt each of you has been wronged by Lamm in some way. You may be thinking of revenge and you know my position. Know also that once you start down this road, there is no turning back. Lamm will not hesitate to have each and every one tortured and killed. If you have even the slightest doubt, you should leave now. What say you all?"
Caulder half-rises instinctively when the woman makes her appearance: "Ma'am," he nods in respect. Before he can reseat himself, however, the cards fly off the table into her hands, and he squints suspiciously. Parlor tricks. Bit showy.
His eyes narrow and jaw clenches as he listens to her story, subconsciously nodding. The Guard is too damn slow to act on these tips, and as much as it pains him to consider the possibility, he can't help suspecting Lamm might have someone on the inside, warning him to change locations whenever the authorities get close. The skirt's clever: Bringing together a small group of unconnected individuals might be the only way to get at him finally.
He listens to Esmerelda speak her piece, then responds. "Lamm's been dodging the law for too long. He's a slippery one, and he has powerful connections. If we're to have any chance of laying hands on him before he's slipped the net again, this meeting cannot be mentioned to anyone outside this room. There are too many low-level operatives out there eager to curry favor with Lamm by carrying him information, and they could be anyone."
"I'm with Darkbane: This is about justice, not revenge, no matter how much he deserves it. The only way Lamm's death means anything to all the people of Korvosa he has wronged is if Korvosa itself exacts the punishment. If one of his lieutenants murders him tomorrow, it doesn't mean a damn thing to me ... to anyone he's wronged, except that there's another criminal on the street. Revenge is a selfish goal for an individual; justice is for the citizens of Korvosa."
"Another thing: Lamm's survived this long by keeping his hands clean enough that he can't be traced directly to any one crime. He lets his underlings take the fall, and it's only hearsay that it can all be traced back to him. If we're going to take him in, we'll need reliable witnesses to his crimes. Darkbane and I have some credibility with the Guard, due to our positions, but if either of you have any blots against your names or reputations, we need to know about it now," he looks very seriously at the dwarf and the Varisian man, "before Lamm can use it to cast doubt on your testimonies and beat the rap again."
Pagrip listens to everything silently and with a bit of a frown on his face, occasionally shaking his head slightly. When Caulder has finished speaking, he says, "Well, I certainly can't say that I don't want to see Lamm get the justice he deserves." He looks to Caulder and then Esmerelda. "I'm not sure our definitions of justice will always line up--after all, the church of Abadar certainly didn't provide me with any justice when Lamm framed me for murder and ruined my lifelong ambitions of a decent education--however, in this case, perhaps our goals line up. Despite what you both so obviously think, I have no intention of walking up to Lamm and strangling him with my bare hands or of putting a crossbow bolt in his back or any other method of ending his life."
He looks at Caulder. "As you so eloquently put it, his death doesn't end the injustice. It doesn't clear my name, and it adds a real charge against me. I've been waiting for a chance like this for some time, and I'm not going to pass it up. Note thought, that if it comes down to a life or death situation, I won't hesitate to defend myself or other innocents, even if that means being forced to kill him."
Pagrip sighs and flops back in his chair. "So you asked if there are any blots against my reputation. You're damned right there is. I was accused of murdering a young man I didn't even know other than by reputation. I'd seen him in the distance once or twice, but nothing more. But I was the outsider at the school. The lone dwarf amongst a bunch of humans, elves, and a handful of gnomes. I was an easy frame because so many found it easy to believe, even wanted to believe. Obviously, you're going to have to accept my word on this, and no one did before. The charges against me were dropped when the main witness turned up dead. NOT killed by me, I might add. Killed by Lamm, too, after he agreed to fess up to his lies and change his testimony. Since he never got to actually change his testimony, the school, the guard, the church of Abadar, everyone all still suspected me. They just couldn't prove it anymore. So they let me go. The Acadamae threw me out, and no one looked for the real killer. The murdered boy's family still want my head. So, that enough of a blot for ya?"
Esmerelda nods as Caulder speaks, glad to have someone around that shares her views. After the dwarf has finished his bit, Esmerelda interjects quietly to him
"Thank you, Staurmbar. It is hard to share such things with strangers. I assure you, Baradin did not mean to offend, it is just his way of speaking. Right, Baradin?"
Caulder clenches his jaw in frustration as Pagrip impugns the Bank, trying not to break out in an angry interruption. He manages to control himself until the dwarf has finished speaking. "I remember that case. Had nothing to do with it myself," he hastens to add. "I was still in training. But what you're saying is exactly what I'm talking about. The Bank couldn't act, why? Because they had nothing to do on but the word of a man with an interest. If they had prosecuted Lamm just because you told them a dead man said he'd done it, how would that be any different than accusing you on the word of this false witness? We need evidence." He brings his hand down heavily on the table.
"Thank you, Staurmbar. It is hard to share such things with strangers. I assure you, Baradin did not mean to offend, it is just his way of speaking. Right, Baradin?"
"What's wrong with my way of speaking?" he wonders, exasperated.
"What's wrong with my way of speaking?" he wonders, exasperated.
"Why, nothing, good Baradin. Nothing at all." Esmerelda replies seriously.
Pagrip holds back a chuckle at the brief exchange between Caulder and Esmerelda. He shifts a bit in his seat and forces a serious expression back onto his face. "Evidence?" he says. "Our host here may have given us the opportunity we need to find evidence."
He turns to the Varisian fortune teller. "Zellara, is it?" he says. "You say you've found where Lamm dwells? If we were to go there, surely we could find evidence of his crimes to use against him. We could sneak in at night or something while he and his cronies are sleeping."
Zellara chuckles mirthlessly, "Lamm, that old bastard, I'd be surprised to hear he ever sleeps. But yes, I know where he is right now - probably still there tonight. He's in an old fishery north of here, at Westpier 17, where he trains hit little lambs to pickpocket and who knows what else." A pained expression crosses her face, tempered by just a flicker of hope, "I hope I can convince you to act against him soon, he has eyes and ears everywhere - one wrong word to someone and he'll hear of it and be gone before the hour. Please, please go out and end him, one way or another."
Ten listened, silently, as the others shared their stories and said their little speeches. The dwarf's story, however, reminded Ten of...
"I knew I recognised you!" Ten interrupted the conversation, "Acadamae, right? That was quite a scandal - people kept on talking about it until- until, until my own expulsion..." his voice trailed off sheepishly.
After taking a moment, he turned to Caulder and responded: "It would appear that the Acadamae produces degenerates on a regular basis. I was expelled for the, er, misuse of school property. Distilling Shiver, if you must know... but, but those days are behind me now."
Turning to face the others, and taking a deep breath, Ten continued: "I know some of how the Shiver trade operates and we all know that Lamm sometimes gets involved with it. I- I may not be the ideal partner, but you might need what I know."
When Ten mentions his experience distilling Shiver, Caulder's face freezes, but his hands tighten on the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white. "This was ... after the dwarf's trouble, was it?" he asks, in a strangled kind of voice. You can see him working out the timeline in his head -- not long enough ago for it to have been that dose of Shiver -- and his hands slowly relax their grip although his face remains stiff with disapproval. "A Shiver distiller ... and an accused murderer." Although the dwarf at least claims innocence, he reminds himself. He shakes his head in disbelief at the strange bedfellows this mysterious invitation has brought him to.
"Arentz, you have paid for your crime, though to some families ripped apart by Shiver, your expulsion is not nearly punishment enough. That said, you could have lied about your expulsion. Your honesty gives me some hope for you yet."
"Straumbar, perhaps we can find proof to clear your name, however I am not hopeful. Even if we find no proof, there are masters of magic in this city you could learn from. Some could be persuaded with a good word. If you aid us well, you will have mine."
"Zellara was it? I do not think it is safe for you to remain here. Please go to the Bank of Abadar and tell them Esmerelda Darkbane sent you."
Rising, Esmerelda says
"Let's not natter on like housewives. We have a criminal to catch.
Zellara smiles, perhaps the first genuine happy smile you've seen from her, "I beg the gods for your success. I cannot leave here just yet, I'll await your return here later."
It takes a moment for things to sink in that this is actually happening. Pagrip looks momentarily surprised as a result, but then jumps to his feet and claps his hands together excitedly. "Right! A criminal to catch!"
Welcome to the first encounter. This is the first time I've set up an encounter using google docs... so let's hope it works properly. Note that you can adjust the zoom (View -> Zoom) and at 100% its fairly large. Your characters are currently in the bottom-right corner and you can easily move them around. The map is revealed for you, I trust you not to meta it. Try not to move the big map accidentally :P
Caulder nods his farewell to Zellara, but as the group begins to move north through the streets, he sidles up to Esmerelda. "You ever stop and think this might be a trap?" he asks her in a low growl of a whisper. "A way for Lamm to tidy up loose ends? Who in the Nine Hells would know about all of our past histories with Lamm, but the man himself? And how did she track us all down?"
Walking towards the door, Esmerelda turns and addresses Zellara
"As you wish, though I would prefer if you waited in a safer place. Till we meet again." She waves her farewell.
En route, she gives Caulder a grin in the dark and replies "Then we cut our way out."
Shaking her head she continues "Why would he lay a trap now after all this time? But you raise a good point about our past. One we should take up with Zellara on our return."
As you reach the old fishery your senses are assaulted by the reek of brine and the stink of week-dead fish, which hang thickly in the air. The old double doors in the side of this weathered building are tightly closed, with a drooping signpost hanging above. The sign it once displayed is long gone, leaving behind only a single short length of rusted chain.
Esmerelda points at the double doors.
"Well, this is it. Shall we knock down the doors and see who is home?"
"I'm not really trained in the... arts of raiding the homes and businesses of those that default on loans. I think that I may need to defer to you in this case," Ten replied, "Lamm is slippery, however...
"If we had more people, we could send some around the back to prevent any escape. We do not know what dangers await us, so I would rather not split up so few people. So unless anyone has any bright ideas, we rush in through the front."