Curse of the Crimson Throne

Game Master Something Wicked

Wow, there's a lot of potential plot hooks. And that's A-Okay! I'm unsure how to tackle this all at once, so let's just start somewhere.

Back at the Fordyce Estate, things are in the usual state of sublime disarray. Garel tuts through the kitchen, gazing woefully over the state of chaos. "The girls have taken to cookin'." Flour covers almost every surface, including Auntie and Blister, who are lamenting a pan of of charcoal lumps in a baking tray. Upon closer inspection, they may have once aspired to be biscuits... The boys, Ziggy, Unx, and Toadie, now convinced that Korvosa is besieged by pirates, have built a fort of throw cushions and quilts in the entry hall. This annoys no one half as much as poor Vran, who, from the sound of her curses, has stumbled over the mess several times today already.

The party convenes in the first floor parlor to talk about future plans (now that all the trouble is put to rest, and all).

At the mention of the harrow deck, the backs of Yazi's eyes begin to tingle. It is not an unpleasant sensation, but unusual and distracting enough to cause her to sit bolt upright. Recent memories begin to flash in succession, including some she herself has never experienced! A spread of harrow cards on a worn oak table. The exchange of coins dropped into an olive-skinned hand with long, polished nails and gaudy beaded jewelry. The smell of candle wax and lamp oil. The tapestries hung on the wall of Zellara's home.

"The deck," breathes Yazi, except it isn't her voice that speaks. At least, not hers alone. Zellara's unearthly Varisian-tinged voice harmonizes with the Shoanti's husky timbre. Yazi reaches for the deck, which flies out of her hand and lands softly on a nearby table, spreading itself out in a graceful arc. One card in the bunch flips itself over. Oddly enough, the chimes in the picture of the card begin to play in the wind. Even more odd, the wind inside the parlor begins to increase, sending loose book pages turning and blowing out the few candles.

"And then there were six." Zellara's voice startles everyone. You flip your heads around to find its source. Seated casually in a chair in the corner, the ghost of the now-dead Varisian fortune-teller smiles playfully. Tag all

The master of the house stepped into the fray with a disapproving eye. "Roland!" He shouted into the echoing halls. "I don't take kindly to invasions. Take the troops out to the barracks."

At their master's behest, Pobie shows up in the fort, seemingly out of nowhere. "Purates are shown ups in da baraks! Dey use yer cloths fer der sails!" And the four boys tear off down the hall to the exit, roaring their rage against those that would steal their new garments. Garrel takes both floured girls in his arms like one would gather papers that have tumbled to the ground and starts carrying them toward the sea battle.

A sublime young man with a deep tan comes into view from the stairwell and glides down the stairs meeting up with the head of the house. His hair was a black mop that covered his eyes, and he wore fairly non-descript clothing except for an exceptionally bright red scarf around his neck that hung down to his knees. "Anything else you need sir?"

Cal looked a little puzzled, and spoke with his head cocked to the side. "Where's Roland at, Henrik? I need to tell him we're going to do a play."

Henrik shrugged a bit. "Can't rightly say. I'll tell im if I sees im."

The blonde haired man sighed a bit, the days strain taking it's toll. "Fine, fine. Spread the word. We're doing "The Beauty's Wound." My friends need to see it."

"It's been a few monts, but I'm sure we can ave it ready in a day or two. The scarfed man said plainly as if just making conversation.

"Make it two. I'd like to avoid any missteps. I'd like to impress instead of a mess."

After giving a cool vote of confidence with his thumb, the smooth man walked out the door leaving Cal with his thoughts. It wasn't like Roland not to answer. Perhaps he took the night off? But he didn't do that without at least letting him know. Perhaps there was a note. He'd have to check his office later, just to be sure.

---------------

When the deck manifested itself through Yazi, Cal sighed with a bit of annoyance in his tone. "Did you have to make my friend to that? It's hardly polite." He walked over to the side of the room and retrieved his violin where it was stashed next to the harpsichord. "I would have imagined you at least came with purpose. Have we been missing something your clairvoyance can point out?"

Li watches Yaziyah's possession by Zellara with apprehension. I be hopin' Yaziyah be ok. The presence of wind inside where wind shouldn't be did nothing to calm the rogue's nerves. "I never be gettin' used ta this," she muttered. What be Zellara wantin' now? Thankfully Cal asked that same questions albeit more eloquently.

With her next purse of pay jingling at her hip (but not too loudly; Mouse had long been in the habit of hiding her pouch beneath her clothes to minimize chances it might be grabbed), Mouse's mind turns to the heap of coin still gathering in her room at the Fordyce estate - a life's fortune, and she'd come across it in only a few days. But it ain't doin' no one no good sittin' in a 'eap, me least o' all... By the time they arrive back at the estate, her mind is made up - but then the barely-controlled chaos of the battle threatens to bowl her over, and she grins, her previous reverie nearly forgotten.

@Wicked: What are your thoughts on the "no one item worth more than 25% of personal wealth" restriction? I'd like to get a body wrap of mighty strikes as soon as I can so I can start overcoming magic DR, but that's not going to be below 25% of my wealth for a good while (longer even than everyone else, since magic weapons are cheaper than the body wrap, and more likely random loot). I can get a wand of magic weapon instead, but that requires Yazi to poke me with it multiple times for every fight that needs it, and that's less than convenient. Thoughts?

Following Pobie to the barracks, Mouse summons up her best pirate impression (a slightly more gravelly version of her own voice) and rough-houses with the kids for a few minutes, bellowing about walking the plank and shivering timbers (the extent of what she can recall about pirates). Soon, she's out of breath as she fights to extricate herself from the mass of giggling, flour-covered Korvosan navy, grinning broadly as she manages to gasp out a surrender and resign herself to the Crown's deepest, darkest dungeons (also known as the sitting room).

Dusting off a couple of floury handprints, she rounds the corner to the sitting room as she catches her breath - just in time to hear Yazi's strange reply and see the harrower appear in one of the plush armchairs, looking, incongruously, like she's ready to grab a biscuit from an unseen tray or propose a game of checkers. Mis- Miss Zellara? Wha's hap'nin? Wha- wha'd y'all do while I was out? Her eyes flit to the other faces in the room...but between the looks of surprise and the looks of exasperation, it's immediately clear everyone else is just as surprised as her. Wha...wha'd'y' need, Miss Zellara? Somethin' goin' on?

Zellara's form shimmers in the shadows as she sits in the chair, her figure emitting a soft green glow. One moment she is sitting and then, in a flash, standing several feet closer to you. She gestures to wipe away a stray lock of hair that has come misplaced from the colorful scarf on her head, only to have it return exactly to its former position. She regards Yazi with a look of admiration and sympathy. "I do not know any other way…”

She turns to Pietro, passing effortlessly through a sofa as she approaches him. "Greetings, Pietro. I am Zellara. The ghost in the deck. I will give you advice, though you have not asked for it. Stay away from that Devargo Barvasi. It was a blessing from Desna that you did not accept his offer, for his words are laced with poison."

The word echoes throughout the room as Zellara continues, suddenly speaking from the opposite end of the parlor.

"I know little more than you at this time. I can listen, hear, and even speak through the cards, but they have not granted me visions of the future. They act in their own time, in their own way. But I can help you in other ways. Even from within them, I can feel the energies of magic, and somehow I, I can read their signatures in the air. If you should need help in identifying magic, perhaps I can help you."

The Harrow Deck can be used to cast identify up to three times per day by touching one of the cards to the item.

”I know there is more to Korvosa’s fate than butchers and spiders, and somehow each of us, even you Pietro, are keyed into it. We are tied together by the strings of fate, all of us. But who is pulling them? That is the question. Or perhaps they are not strings at all, but silken threads of a spider's web?"

”Calcedon, Mouse. This locket. The information you seek is right under your nose, within this house. Li, this Grau Soldado, he knows more than even he realizes.”

”Garvid, I believe you are right that the involvement of House Arkona is not coincidence, but I do not know what it means.”

She pauses, glancing sadly toward Yaziyah. "And there is another thing. Not the cards, something else… I have been having terrible visions. Visions of awful violence, and the gentle sobbing of a lonely child, one whose cries I can hear but can never see. And there is a mourning hymn sung in Shoanti. I do not know..."

Tag all

Li is surprised that Zellara knows about Grau. If she really thinks about it she probably shouldn't be surprised, but she is. Li had had every intention on looking for Grau to continue their original conversation but Zellara's comment gives Li a sense of urgency to seek him sooner rather than later. Mebbe he's tha key ta my past after all.
___________________

The next morning, Grau is still on Li's mind. When everyone is around to break their fast she says, "I be headin' fer tha Citadel this mornin'. I need ta talk ta Grau. Zellara has me thinkin' he may know somethin' about my past. I shouldn't be long."

With that Li excuses herself and moves out into the streets of Korvosa, weaving her way through the streets with ease. She began to become doubtful as she approached the Citadel. Every time until now, she had been with the others. The others who were known and important. Now that she was by herself it seemed like she was doing something crazy. She approaches the gate somewhat tentatively and when questioned about her business, she asks after Grau. "If'n Grau Soldado be around, please let him know that...Neffi be here ta see him."

Realized as I started to write this that I had no clue what approaching the Citadel solo would be like. Are there guards that you have to check in with? We always waltzed right in as a group. I doubt that Li would bother the Field Marshal about something as trivial as finding Grau. Li has no clue how to find Grau otherwise...

Cal pointed the bow of his violin at Zellara in a less than menacing gesture as he sat crosslegged on the harpsichord bench. "I know the answers are here. I just can't go in that room. Not yet anyway. I tried a few nights ago, and it just wouldn't happen." He returned his bow to his strings and did a quick tune of his instrument. "And since I can't really have anyone else go through my house's personal records, I'm afraid that's the way it will stay for now."

He played some arpeggios in rapid succession, extremely fast and then took the violin from his chin in the middle of his warm up. "The violence, that I know about too. It happened in that room, and that's why I can't go in there. I do understand you're just trying to help. But it will require some patience. Besides, I've a cadre of other things to pay attention to right now that are also weighing on me. I have to rebuild my house, take care of my house's business, save the city, and spread the joy of music here and abroad. When that's all done, I'll play for Shelyn, and that will be that."

Mouse had nearly forgotten about the locket they'd found in Lamm's cache...it had meant little and less to her, and once Cal had claimed it for his own it hadn't meant more coin in her pocket. Cal seemed more than content to let the issue rest, and she was inclined to let him be in matters that concerned his affairs and estate...but if Zellara was asking, there had to be a reason. The spectral harrower may have claimed to be unable to see the future - but if she thought the issue important, Mouse trusted that call. And besides, the fact that the harrower had specifically named her in connection with this locket intrigued her. If this room itself, whatever it was, was the problem Cal had...

What'f I go in f'r ya, Cal? she ventures forth timidly. If you can't go in there f'r some reason, c'd y' sen' me in, gimme me some idea o' what t' look for? I ain't read much but kids' fairy stories, an' I ain't got much head f'r figures - I wou'n't be able t' make heads nor tails of any kind o' records even if I wanted t' snoop. But I c'n lift 'n carry plenty, if y' tell me what t' get...an' ain't no room in this house got no hist'ry wit' me, 'cept wha's been made these las' few days. I mean...if there's somethin' important we gotta fin' out in there, I don' wanna see it lef' behind... Tag Cal.

She turns to Pietro, passing effortlessly through a sofa as she approaches him. "Greetings, Pietro. I am Zellara. The ghost in the deck. I will give you advice, though you have not asked for it. Stay away from that Devargo Barvasi. It was a blessing from Desna that you did not accept his offer, for his words are laced with poison."

The thoroughly analytical man was taken back at the appearance of ghost. Especially one that knew his name and his recent dealings.

Pietro solemnly nodded. He knew many in his profession did take up the use and abuse of poison but that was not his way. He merely wanted the Spider King to deal with them without resorting to violence. But Zellara probably knew that as well.

He stammered, "O-OK. I'll... stay away then."

He was then relieved that the ghost's attention turned elsewhere. The doctor was very familiar with death but it was undeath that unnerved him some. More than he cared to admit.

I figure I would add a little phobia here; they're always good for RPing. :)

Yaziyah remains sitting stiffly once the possession is over; it is quite clear that she disapproves of the whole affair. Her last words kindle her interest however. "Lonely child? Plenty of those in Korvosa and elsewhere. But the hymn... do you remember the words? My people have plenty of mourning songs, so I'll need some specifics."

She cocks an eyebrow at Calcedon's speech. There is an old, deep wound there, that's for sure. "Do you want me to take a look, young man? I can check for harmful spirits in that place, or malevolent magic woven into the room. I can understand that you don't want to confront that piece of your past just yet, but perhaps there are forces at work to keep you away from it, aside from the memories in your head and the pain in your soul."

Cal's whimsical behavior dampened a bit when Mouse and Yazi offered to help. He gave a wan smile and nodded at them while tucking both violin and bow under his arms. Suddenly his face broke out in a bit of a sweat and he began to look a bit pale. "Look again, I appreciate the sentiment. But I can't stomach the idea of anyone going in there. The best thing that could happen is if I accidentally found the records in my office after thinking they weren't there. It's plausible, I'm fairly disorganized." He gave a wink to Mouse on that note, but his face winced a bit at even that thought.

"But don't even think about going around my back about this, Roland will let me know if you get up to any shenanigans." Cal almost allowed his mind to dwell on the idea that Roland might let them in to the library if he thought it was in his master's best interest, but as his eyes drifted up, he forced them to the left and out the window where the faint sounds of music could be heard from the courtyard.

"I'll have a look there in a few hours, as I have a few business things to iron out before but all this talk about the library has me up in knots. I'm going to go force Henrik to play for me. The man's talent with the guitar is undeniable, and it always puts me in a good mood. If Feilaken is here, we could use some Bass as well, and that should set me to rights." Without waiting for much of a response, he sauntered out of the room heading for the courtyard.

It wasn't much longer before the sounds of Varisian music started wafting through the estate, as the pieces he was able to gather began playing song after song.

It seemed like Zellara's appearance had once again spooked everyone in different ways. Li watches as Cal's emotional scab is picked at. Seems we all be havin' things consumin' us that we can't be gettin' away from. Tha past be provin' ta be a heartless b@*ch. And with that Li's thoughts turn to her own past and how little she knows. It is then that the music begins wafting up from the courtyard and she feels drawn downstairs to listen, which she does from the shadows.

Garvid sighs. "Well, I honestly didn't expect much more. But thanks, Zellara...", he replies, nodding to the ghost. If only diviners could say, this is the criminal and the evidence is in the living room, in the cabinet..., he thinks.

He leans back in the chair, thinking. "Well, shit. I'm thinking to go and check out the Arkonas.", he says. "Cal, thinking of helping me with a bit of subterfuge? Feeling like they're planning to win some crowns with the whole disturbance. So do you. We might go and see something under the pretense of an alliance, and we can ask them around. If we're lucky, we might get some more information."

"Do you remember the words?"

Zellara places one of her long fingernails to her lip in a thoughtful gesture, but frowns and shakes her head. "No, I do not know the Shoanti tongue well at all. I could only recognize it for what is was...

Zellara steps toward the harrow deck and places her hand upon The Traveler. The wind begins to pick up once more and her form begins to fade. The sound of wind chimes returns--behind it, the sound of rolling thunder, the herald of a coming storm.

"If I should learn more I will try to contact you again. Remember, avoid the spider's web..." With a quiet pop she vanishes, the green glow fades, and the candles re-ignite, casting the room in a warm glow.

___________

Next Day

After the break, Cal came back to note that Zellara had gone. Cal gave a smile toward everyone still assembled, if only apologetically. He pulled out the harpsichord bench again, and straddled it like a horse. The bard leaned over toward Garvid. "You offer a most intriguing proposal. You think that our job isn't quite done with the ambassador then? There are a lot of unanswered questions concerning what went on with that last mission. I would like to understand them as well, but I am a bit under pressure." Grabbing a glass of brandy off of the top of the instrument behind him, he swirled the half gulp still in the bottom and dropped it into his mouth. He motioned to the former guard for a refill.

"I could use my share of the reward to shore up my house and it's many financial responsibilities, or I can instead invest time and some of the money to produce a thriving business that will protect my holdings and allow me to provide for even more artisans and children alike." He glanced toward the door, knowing there was still a kitchen likely full of flour just beyond it.

"If you want to help, I can definitely use it. My house used to be a great one, sitting atop the council, but time, treachery and neglect have not treated it well. I've been making plans for months. Spending money to fix the house is well and good, but making sure the business ventures of my house are profitable can increase the nutrition of the food we eat immediately, which is good for the children. Then once that is taken care of, then the surplus could be used for the house, and we can step from there."

He takes the brandy Garvid offered him and sips at it before continuing. "I've recently acquired a deed to a prime dock on the river. The trouble is that it's been burned to the waterline in the recent upheaval. Now the spot and licensing are taken care of, we simply need to build it. Now building things in town is slightly more complex than just having coin, you need to work with the people nearby and with local labor just to get things moving in a way that is beneficial to everyone or we'll just end up with a lot of resentful neighbors, which is never good for business."

Turning to their resident Shoanti, he reached over and placed his hand on her arm. "The local area has a full contingent of your people, and where I could smooth things over and let them know jobs will be coming available again, if you could handle that, I'd be much appreciative." He gave her arm a little squeeze before turning to the doctor.

"Pietro, your knowledge of alchemy is terribly useful, and I've heard from other docks there's some formulas that preserve the wood in the water so they're not easily rotted out. If you could find those formulas for me, since I don't have an expert in that field already, it could save me quite a bit of time. I know dealing with construction isn't in your normal wheelhouse, but it likely could give you a break from the status quo. I'd also like any other advice or considerations you might have for things as we go. After all, if you had time enough to offer that lowlife on the north end, you have time enough to help me. Perhaps I'll even be able to build you a proper laboratory for your troubles."

Polishing off his glass, he leaned back and addressed the rest of the party. "For the rest of you if you wish to help, there's a need for labor, supervision of hired hands, security and a host of other duties. If you want to help, any of you are certainly welcome to it. I can make sure you gain a better wage than you'd get elsewhere and with the more help I get, the more time I'll have for other things. Once the Pier starts making money again, I'll be able to afford things like fresher food for the little ones and the necessary repairs and replacement furniture of the house."

The bard stood up, obviously full of purpose. "If you do not wish to help, that's fine. I have the capacity to do it myself. But it will take time. I know some of you have other things you will like to do as well, and that those things will be important to you. That's fine as well. I'm no king to order you to help, nor will I insist, or even plead. I'm letting you know that I intend to help the city, and I am going to need to build the proper resources to be able to do so.

"It will likely take me ten days, which should be fine. The ambassador will likely find out that someone else bought his letters well before that, possibly today. If we start poking around immediately, he'll put two and two together and realize we might be involved. Waiting a little while will help alleviate suspicion, and I'll certainly be willing to do the espionage at that time. Before then, we can just gather info in general. Not only do we need the resources, but we'll also need to know how to use what resources we have."

"The best thing that could happen is if I accidentally found the records in my office after thinking they weren't there. It's plausible, I'm fairly disorganized."

At that, Yaziyah gives Mouse a meaningful look. As Cal leaves the room, she leans a little forward, her chin in her hand. "Let's you and me take a look tomorrow night. It might be nothing, just bad memories. Or..." She shrugs, her mind flying to the myriad ways spirits could mess with people when they were in the mood to.

________________________________

The next morning, a very grumpy Shoanti woman stalks out of the estate, not even pausing for breakfast. She would not admit it even to herself, but the dreams, the dagger, Zellara's cryptic visions have unnerved Yaziyah. She tells herself she will just go check on her people, talk to them about that business venture of Calcedon's. And if someone would happen to know something about mourning songs or magical daggers with inscrutable auras... There is also Thousand Bones, she may pay the old shaman a visit and chat. Yes, that would be nice. A cup of tea and a chat.

She goes down to the river front where the Fordyce pier is located. Activity has picked up again and the area is bustling with stevedores, merchants, sailors, hawkers and guards, but the scars of the recent upheavals can be seen here and there. Boarded-up windows, the burnt shells of buildings, gaps in the cobblestones where stones were pried out, traces of blood and smoke still in the air. It takes a couple of hours to locate the unofficial leader of the Shoanti dock workers, the person who might be persuaded to persuade the others to cooperate. Yaziyah is tall, but even she has to tilt her head upwards to look this one in the eye. Fragrant Nightingale is a woman the size of a small hill, towering above her; her arms are as thick around as Yaziyah's whole body, corded with muscle. A brightly coloured scarf in the Varisian fashion ties back her thick black hair, sewn with charms of shells and wooden beads. She is dressed like a man, in leather trousers and a sleeveless vest laced with leather cords. The woman regards Yaziyah with a half-amused, half-curious expression, her muscled arms crossed over her broad chest.

Yaziyah addresses the woman in Shoanti, adopting a purposefully relaxed posture and casual tone. "My name is Speaks For The Dead. I come here on business, but first you might forgive me a small curiosity. I expected a name like Breaks The Mountain or Giantsbane, not Fragrant Nightingale." In response, the woman smiles widely, then lets her arms fall to her side, drawing a deep, long breath. Then she sings. Oh gods and spirits, she sings. It's a silly little song, a ditty about a homesick sailor, but her voice is the hissing of the waves against the wooden hull, the cries of the gulls circling the masts, the rhythmic work songs of the sailors, the salty spray on your skin and the memory of how your wife's cookies smell when she takes them out of the oven. Tears are trickling down Yaziyah's cheeks without her realizing it and her heart aches in her chest with a nameless longing.

When the song is over, the older woman smiles radiantly through the tears, signaling her understanding. "That was unlike anything I have ever heard, my dear. Do you know any mourning songs"?

Diplomacy, if needed: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 8 + 2 = 23
Knowledge religion: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

At the whisper from Yazi, Mouse nods tersely - because the medicine woman's already hit upon her plan. Cal had been good to her, good beyond anything she'd earned...if there was aught she could do to repay that goodness, she was all in. He'd said to leave the library be. But even Mouse, naive though she sometimes was, could tell that what he needed more than compliance right now was help retrieving whatever secrets that room held. An' Miss Zellara said it was the information we was seekin' - we. 'F there's somethin' bout alla that I don' remember in there, too...

Conspiratorially, she leans in toward the Shoanti woman. Soun's like Cal's got some plans t'morrow - means 'e'll be out 'n about. Might make th' daytime an even better chance. She pointedly ignores another corollary - that whatever might have caused Yazi to trail off was less likely to make trouble in the daylight. 'E mentioned Roland - 'f 'e's th' one 'round this library most, 'e might be able t' 'elp us get in. Tag Yazi.

----------

Count me in, Mouse replies to Cal's lengthy proposal. I ain't got nothin' much goin' nowhere else - liftin' an' carryin's what I done most when it comes t' workin'. Jus' point me at what needs doin', an' I'll see it done. Mebbe...mebbe I c'n even help some with plannin' it. I worked a buncha different spots - seen some different ways o' layin' things out. There's a dock up by North Bridge what's got a heckuva pulley system, made f'r unloadin' th' awkward things tons easier. An' Wiggins' place on th' West Dock was set up right clever - few levels o' landings so y' could unload wi'out havin' t' carry or wheel down one o' them clumsy gangplanks. As she speaks, all the best (and worst) features of the many odd jobs she's worked begin to tumble through her mind. Mebbe doin' this before'll be of some help. Practical knowin' an' all that. Tag Cal.

Take 10 on Profession (porter) and Lore (Old Korvosa) to help in Cal's effort, if I can. Essentially, using her viewpoint from having worked in many different places to have a good idea of what's going to make things better and more efficient for the workers involved.

Glad to have been given something to think about and do for the next few days, Pietro nodded. "You're right, Cal. I did offer my service to the Spider King so I'm sure to be able to find some time for you and your dock."

He states the problem again to make sure he understood, "So we are looking for some sort of alchemical wood treatment so your dock will last longer. I can see why the changing conditions brought about by the ides would wreak havoc in the wood. The change of water levels would make the wood be either saturated or not. I'm sure the salinity of the sea itself changes and would also affect the wood."

He continued speaking more to himself to get his thoughts straight and formulate a plan, "So, I'll speak to the local vendors to see what they are currently using. I'll then take samples of water itself to measure potential contaminants and obtain some sort of base parameters for my solution."

He raised a finger, "I'll also hit the books, of course. I'm sure there's some thesis on the treatment of wood. I'll have to check the authors of the seafaring nations as I'm sure they've encountered this problem before."

"Later I'll experiment in the lab and once I hit upon the right formulae, I'll have to mass produce it for our use."

He took a breath, [b]"OK then. I guess I know what I'm doing for the next few days.

More to come as I find time...

Calcedon smiled at his new friends and their willingness to help. He'd have to spend the better part of a month doing all this himself, but it was likely that now it could be a week, or even less. "Thank you so much for your aid in this matter. I'm sure that with your help, I can deal with this fairly quickly and we can move on to other things. Helping rebuild the city is also a good, and getting people back to work is a must."

With Mouse's suggestions concerning the dock, he listens with interest. "Though I have some information concerning the shipping business, your common sense and experience will definitely help. I'm glad you are on board with this."

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Going to post this for structure's sake. I don't think we need to RP every day, but skip the boring parts of day to day grind for the juicy stuff we can encounter later. Feel free to fill in the gaps or ask Cal about a few things in the meantime. I'm fully expecting some kind of interference in the day to day concerning what we find in the library, or maybe he'll just put it off until the end. In any case, on with the building montage!

The Head of House Fordyce got to work immediately after the morning salad, which ended around the ninth hour. Garel treated them to one of his songs which fueled his soul's fire for the day, and then some. He coordinated his friends' efforts and sent messages, purchased lumber, and smoothed relations between all their vendors and probable employees. Come dusk he was completely worn out, and only played a few songs and slept well for a change.

As the next few days rolled along, he developed a bit of a routine. Adding only the occasional soothing song at night for babes with nightmares. Just as it had started seemingly out of the blue, it was over. In just five days, they'd completed everything necessary to rebuild the docks with contingencies and possible setbacks fairly covered. The actual work would continue for another couple weeks, with the schedule finishing out on the 21st day. It would take five months or so for the investment to pay off the investment, but after that and even before then he'd have made a positive step for his house, possibly the first full one since his parents had their lives snuffed out by Lamm.

It was at this time that Cal faced an issue. Either he could attempt the library again, or he could go information gathering with Garvid. Since the second appealed to him much more than the first, he tracked down the big man after the work was done on the 5th day, to bend his ear.

"Garvid! I'm finding myself with a bit of free time on the morrow, shall we do some turning of the soil to see what kind of information we can dig up on our current state? I'm surprised that all of the fires and trouble of the city are well enough in hand they decided they didn't need us for this long, perhaps we could stir up a bit of trouble on our own?"

Mouse rolls over in bed, still groggy after sleeping off the nerves of the encounter with the Spider King. But the question of the library had tickled at her mind even as she slept, and dreams of maniacally cackling books and pens with daggers for nibs had danced through her mind...even as she floated into wakefulness, the curiosity dug at her. Pushing dark braids back from her face, she looks over to Yazi's spot in the shared covers...only to see her absent. Miss Zellara'd said somethin' bout 'er hors- 'er Shoanti people - mebbe she's lookin' into 'em? But then, tha' means I'm waitin' t' get in there...'less I go lookin' by my lonesome, but I ain't gon' do much good with records 'n such without someone to 'elp...

Sitting down to (again, rather ample) breakfast, Mouse waits...and wonders. But as the former Lambs tumble in over each other, clamoring for a spot at the breakfast table, Mouse grins and tries to aid Roland in the noble (and increasingly futile) task of taming them. C'mon, now - rears in chairs, han's where I c'n see em! As she and the butler make the rounds with damp, lemon-scented cloths for sticky hands and faces (soaked in dangerous, blistering poison, from how Unx's reaction makes it sound), she takes advantage of a particularly boisterous moment to lean in close to Roland. Whether she took advantage of the free afternoon to look by herself or not, information was key to their covert mission either way - though she tries to pass it off as naïve curiosity. Look, Mister Roland...I gotta know. Wha's th' deal wit' this library? Way Mister Cal makes it sound, the place's like Citadel Vraid its own self, but there ain't nothin' so bad in there...right?

As Calcedon moves out, he finds Garvid just walking in through the main entrance. The guardsman is covered in dirt and grime, his hands and his face red. "Hello, Cal!", he greets, sitting down on an old bench and starts patting down his trousers, a small cloud of dust rising. "Holy hell was that place a mess. What happened, an orc invasion?", he grins, stretching his hands and cracking his back. "When the week started I was almost going to suggest burning it down for the insurance, but I reckoned you didn't have one. Now, it's fine."

He listens to the suggestion, nodding with approval. "About damn time. If they didn't burn all the evidence by now. Considering how they got the letters to be torn apart. But still, you never know." He scratches his week-old stubble, the colour of salt and pepper. "So, are you thinking a surprise visit from the heir of the family and his bodyguard? Because I sure don't look like an accountant."

I ran short on time today! I'll be back tomorrow to contribute more toward what's happening at the mansion.

I'm really bad with timelines so if it's been more than a week since we all met then please pretend that's what I wrote :)

Li leaves the Citadel conflicted. If it had been a week ago, she would have just left on a ship without saying anything to anyone. However, a week ago she would have been by herself and would not know the others or have met Zellara or Grau. These were all keys to opening the doors that brought her to this - she now has the chance to learn something about herself but it means leaving for Sandpoint.

Li stops at the docks first to make sure she can even sail to Sandpoint before alerting the others. Stumbling across Bertmew Claff, almost literally since she barely avoided tripping over the dwarf in her haste, solidifies plans for Li and suggests to her that she was supposed to be doing this. Mebbe Zellara be workin’ things out ta make sure I be makin’ it ta Sandpoint. With everything arranged, the only thing left was to get back to the Fordyce Estate and let the others know she’d be gone for a week or so.

Moving quickly through the streets, Li arrives back at Cal’s almost breathless. She continues to jog throughout the house looking for the others. She finds Cal, Garvid, and Mouse in Cal’s office beginning to organize the plan that Cal had put forth the night before. Pietro had left to start on his formulations and Yaziyah had been gone since early morning.

The rogue stops short after she bursts into the room and all three pairs of eyes turn to look at her. She realizes that she hadn’t thought about what she was going to say. I be goin’ ta Sandpoint,” she blurted. ”Not fer good but after talkin’ ta Grau it seems likely that be where I be from. If there be someone there that be knowin’ me or me parents, I need ta know.”

She looks guiltily at Cal. ”Cal, ya been so good ta me an’ I want’d ta be helpin’ ya with yer plans but…if’n Zellara point’d me this direction, I think I should be goin’.” Not knowing what their reactions would be she asked, ”Is it ok if’n I be comin’ back here when I be getting’ back?”

tag everyone

Again, if I've misunderstood timelines and Pietro and Yaziyah are actually present when Li gets back then feel free to ignore that part of my post and respond if you feel compelled to :)

"Getting back? Where are you going?" Yaziyah enters right on the tail of Li's announcement, her mood little better than it had been this morning. After hearing the explanation, she frowns, digging into one of the many pockets of her cloak. "Ah. Sandpoint. Very good. Very good. the sheriff there is Shoanti, I hear. Give him this, it might dispose him kindlier towards you." She pulls out a charm of feathers and cloth inscribed with stylized lines, depicting a hawk. Normally, a Shoanti shaman would make charms only for her tribe, but in Korvosa the tribal lines had blurred, so Yaziyah knew the signs and symbolism of each well enough to make charms for all.

Once this is settled and Li has been wished safe travels, she goes in search of Mouse. Hearing what Garel had said, the woman simply shrugs. "Perhaps we don't need his help. Cal is busy with this new venture of his and Roland is nowhere to be found. I say let's go take a look." Tag Mouse.

Another post or two to wrap up Li's voyage. Reactions to information and rumors? Further happenings at the manor?

Upon investigation, there are four entrances to the library, but only one on the main floor. With the large double doors there, it's obviously meant as a thoroughfare. The other exits from the library lead into other parts of the basement which is accessible by the servant's stair in the kitchen, leading down to the pantry, and the stairwell near the mudroom at the other end of the mansion. In the basement, you'll find servant's quarters, several locked and reinforced doors, the lower and a double door that's quite obviously the entrance to the library due to the ornate windows that make it plain.

Whereas the upper floor has been boarded up, this lower floor simply has some wedges jammed between the outward facing doors and the stone floor. It would take some time, but with the proper application of strength and perhaps a proper tool of some kind, it should be fairly easy to gain access.

Upon entry, the space is fairly bare, but beautiful. The area is lit by come continual flame torches hidden in the decor. There is a large but faded picture on the ceiling with a few spots of age and something else obscuring the picture slightly that basically seems to be people engaged in noble life, reading, erecting monuments, directing soldiers and the like.

The main hall seems to be reserved for reference books, but they are completely disorganized. It would take ages to see even if any of these books were worth anything. The floor is bare of furnishings, except for the occasional small dots of color on the wooden floor, which appear to be old dried blood.

One of the remaining unexplored exits that leads under the dining room is a mess with piles of papers, boxes of papers with various labels, filing cabinets and drawers. The reason for the mess seems to be the infusion of reams of music into what would normally be an organized filing system. There are records for every generation of the Fordyce family, dating back up for a hundred years. The most recent entries are the journals of a one Andoricus Fabian Macarte Fordyce that seem to be up until about nine years ago. Other filing cabinet labels that seem to be of little interest are Debts and Consolidations, Military Accounting, Shipping and Receiving. These suddenly transition into labels such as Viola, Contrabass, Clarinet, Oboe, and Euphonium. A bit more investigation, under a pile of other musical records is a small box labeled "Surrogate Conception". On the top of the box is a smaller felt lined box for jewelry, but empty.

The last exit from the library is an oaken door with scratch marks from nearly every direction from about five feet out all along the wooden floor that lead toward it's closed and imposing frame. The lock here is quite fancy and intricate. But the door itself seems to be fairly plain and doesn't fit the rest of the decor or match the type of wood used anywhere else in the building.

Li takes the charm carefully from Yaziyah, admiring the intricacies of it. "Thank ya Yaziyah. I be makin' sure I be keepin' it safe. I'll be grateful fer havin' it if I be needin' it."

Count me in, Mouse replies in a hush to Yazi's proposal.

Arriving at the doors on the main floor, Mouse frowns, examining the boards nailed across the entrance critically. 'S gon' take me more 'n a bit t' shift this lot, an' more 'n a bit o' noise too...might be we're lucky, but not tha' lucky, t' be able t' move it wi'out someone seein'. Peering beneath the door's crack, she sees the floor fall away several feet from the door; trusting to her brief observation, she rises and signals to Yazi. C'mon - th' floor in there ain't all on this level. Goes down t' another floor - might be we'll have better luck findin' a way in there.

And her perseverance is rewarded when first the servant's stair, then the other doors reveal themselves. While the first several doors seem to be merely living quarters, there's one set of doors that's anything but - the worksmanship is far too ornate for a bedroom or closet. And even better, the door is held only by a few wedges and shims, rather than the boards and nails of the upstairs entrance. Miss Yazi - this's it, 's gotta be! she exclaims, her voice threatening to break away from a whisper for a moment. Lemme...lemme get these...

Dropping to her knees, she begins working at the blockages, wriggling them aside with grunts and muttered curses. A few minutes' work sees some progress...but painfully little, in her anxious mind. Blasted...pieces...o'... bleep...;) Finally, several minutes' more pushing and prodding sees the last restraint come free, and she pushes herself to her feet, turns the door handle...and gasps at the sight that meets her eyes. I ain't...I ain't ever saw so many books 'n all my life... Tag Yazi.

"Me neither, girl, me neither. Well, let's take a look around." Yaziyah spends a good amount of time searching the library with Mouse's help, looking for anything that could be the records that Calcedon spoke of. Just for good measure, she enlists the spirits' aid in discovering any malign presence or spell that still lingers in the room. Cast Detect Evil.

In the end, she settles on the journal, the Surrogate Conception box, some recent Shipping and Receiving files and as many of the family history records as she and Mouse can carry out of the room.

Following Yazi's instructions (and sneaking more than one awed glance at the rest of the library), Mouse prepares a heap of files in the biggest crate she can find - and from how she moves the crate around, it's clear that unwieldiness of the load will stop her before the weight does, even with her slight frame. As she works, sorting files from drawers into the crate she's preparing, she tries to ignore the scratched, nearly ruined door in the distance...and fails spectacularly. Miss Yazi...whaddaya think happened there? she asks in a whisper, gesturing toward the door with trepidation.

With a hush made of equal parts fear and near-reverence, she makes her way carefully across the open floor of the library, walking on tiptoe. As she goes, she plants her feet warily, putting more than usual care into avoiding the dark flecks on the floor (for, being no stranger to violence, she knows what dried blood looks like). When she gets close, she examines the strange door more thoroughly, trying to make some sense of what could have happened to cause such wanton destruction.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

The scratches appear to be from creatures that knew they didn't want to go into that room, but were dragged in. The symmetry of the library would seem to suggest that this was a separate room like the file room, although it's purpose may have been changed since it's original construction. Other than the library being a little bit creepy due to the details, there doesn't seem to be any evil radiating from this place.

To open the door, here are some stats. Hardness 5, HP 20, Break DC 23, Disable Device 20. Forcible entry would be fairly loud, and is fairly likely to let anyone know something's up on both this floor and the ones above it, depending on how good their ears are.

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Spending eight hours in the gentleman's club had been a luxury he hadn't indulged in his adult life. He'd performed in there several times, and since he had brought his violin, he played a bit of chamber music for the men before settling down to an afternoon of idle conversation, brandy and cigars. He made sure that Garvid had just as much as he did, and after all the information they got, the two of them left before dinnertime only slightly tipsy.

"Did you get enough from the gentleman's club, o bodyguard? Not your usual circles, I could tell. But a little bit of business and a little bit of pleasure make for a very enlightening day, wouldn't you agree? Perhaps I should have chartered a boat for Vudra, and then my house would be as rich as the Arkonas..." He trailed off a bit, and caught himself staring blankly at a wall for no particular reason.

Tag Garvid

Garvid smiles, shaking his head. "Been to places like that a couple of times." He chuckles. "Last time someone got overly excited discussing politics. Or something academic, didn't quite get it. Packed a respectable punch for a fop."

He puts a hand on his chin, scratching the short stubble accumulated today. "Call me a cynical jackboot, but I'm thinking that the Arkonas might do that charity bullshit in order to got the masses loyal. Doubt many people raided their estates during the uprising, you know. Even so, I'm tempted to not investigate them right now. They don't look like Cheliax supporters, and if we're to do something big later on, it might be useful not to antagonise them." He takes a deep breath. "Shit, I'm starting to sound like a politician. Kick me next time I use a big word, please.", he grins at Calcedon. "Though all those rumors concern me a bit. It's probably all drivel, but if there really is yet another f$++ing force of order in this town, it's going to turn into gang warfare. With governmental funding. Lovely. And you got to admit, it must be terribly convenient for the Queen to have everyone in power gone, dead or both, mustn't it?"

He grabs Calcedon by the shoulder, pointing towards a street vendor's stall, covered in various baked and fried goods. "C'mon, we're going there. My treat." He walks by the stall, grinning. "I'll take a dozen maxmax." As he takes the small, flowery treats in his hand, he grabs three and shoves them in his mouth. "Hah. About ten years ago, pretty much all of the Guard was shoving those by the dozens daily. The quartermaster was complaining she had to refit armours every damn week.", he says after he swallows, chuckling. "And then someone told us what they're made of. I swear, Carlin, my buddy, was so pissed off, he actually went to see Zenderholm to see personally if selling Mouse fat was illegal.", he grins, shoving another two in his mouth. "Shtill tashtesh gud, though."

Following the maxmax's quick and brutal defeat, he pats his hands together to remove the excess sugar. "Right. Anyway. I still think we need to give the Arkonas a visit, be it official or unofficial. When we connect the dots, that Garath fellow is either a cunning mastermind, ready to take control over the town with the aid of the poorest, or the two are actually people who do charity, and they were all messed up in that whole thing with the deserters. I'd like to judge them for myself."

As the days bleed into weeks, Korvosa returns to a semblance of normality. Still, the streets thrum with bridled tension and wild rumors. While the riots are quelled and order returns to the majority of the city, crime is actually on the rise. Petty thefts, burglaries and muggings skyrocket, keeping the guard employed beyond their limits.

In the taverns and markets, some still hiss "usurper" and "murdering harlot" at the mere utterance of Qeeen Ileosa's name. More shockingly, rumors that the king's death was not of natural causes become heard more and more often. Most of the rumors purport that Eodred II was poisoned, and the queen is oft cast as the primary target of these rumor mills.

Last call for downtime activities. After another day or two I'd like to push forward with the AP :).

Pietro's routine this morning was shaken at its core when he noticed a spider on his sleeve.

Now that he was finished with the alchemical wood preservative, he had gone back to the clinic during the day. There was a particular obese noble lady that wanted a miracle wrap to make her thinner.

Pietro had said yes; her money would be well spent among the poor and destitute who actually didn't have enough money to get fat.

So with nothing changed in his routine, the appearance of a spider was... troubling. He brushed off the vermin and went to the clinic.

He made sure the wraps were particularly hot to give the fat lady a mild rash and some severe discomfort. Once she quit for the day, he went back to Cal's mansion hoping to find some of the others there.

He recounted the story about the spider and asked for opinions...

tag?

If anyone is there and wants to chat. But I'm Ok with moving the story along as well. :)

If you don't want to sound like a politician, you're hanging out with the wrong guy." Cal stated jovially, with a bit of rose in his cheeks. He takes the offer of maxmax, not because he enjoys the disgraceful food, but so that their good comradery can continue. "Really all we have is a dagger that was said to have been given by one of them, as well as the suggestion that it was accompanied with a suggestion that can be easily misconstrued for altruism. We need evidence before we can make a move, and with as reclusive as the Arkonas are, it would be better to meet them in neutral territory."

He swallowed another treat without making either a pleased or a disgusted face at all, pretending to be in thought. "Perhaps there is some event in the near future that I was not invited to, but I could crash. I could bring a bodyguard, of course. Most nobility quietly accept me because I'm good at a party and I have noble blood, even if I'm not rich. If we can get to a place where we can meet one of them, perhaps we could angle ourselves an invitation. I'll keep an ear out for events and we'll take it from there. If they really are up to no good, I'm sure we will find more evidence of the trouble they're stirring up elsewhere if we pay attention."

---------------------------------------------

Cal listened to the Doctor's query concerning the spider. "It's possible that our new friend is a bit put out that you don't have time for him. Of course, it's also possible that it's just a spider. Either way, just keep your wits about you, and if you would rather stay within my walls, you are welcome. We're far from capacity, and there's a fairly nice room in the basement I can lend you for your laboratory."

--------------------------------------------

With the business of the week being pushed, the play was delayed for more a week instead of just a few days. Cal also had been waiting for Norelia to return, and from time to time different parts of the story were being practiced by the troubadours of the manor. If approached by any of Cal's new friends, they quietly hush their recitation and explain that it is much better when you see the whole thing.

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The dock's office was completed quickly as the new boards were being placed along the pier. Cal had found some Shoanti laborers who were quite friendly with Yazi's help and after agreeing on some wages, they were set up to finish the work and then work the dock upon completion. He still checked in on them on a daily basis to make sure that things were progressing, but it wasn't long before captains were seeing the rebuilt dock and inquired into prices and such. Being that it was the closest dock to some businesses, it made it fairly convenient for some vendors to save them steps through the streets, a far more grueling task.

I will probably have the dock convert gold to goods or labor capital, mostly because it's harder to steal, and also because I have building projects in the future that I'd like to do. Once I get enough Capital to rebuild a room within the mansion, I'll do that.

Whatever's be'ind that door, somethin' sure di'n't wanna see it... But even a quick look told her that the quite solid door wasn't going to go down without a fight, and with her and Yazi going behind the master of the house's back...well, wall-jarring noise didn't seem like a good idea. Li's a fair 'and at locks 'n such - mebbe when she gits back she c'n lend a 'and. If we even wanna know wha's be'ind it...

With a trace of trepidation and perplexity still murky in her eyes, she rejoins Yazi and finishes putting together her load of Fordyce family history. Once everything that looks to be of import is loaded into a carrying crate, she hefts the weight to her hips and begins the trek back to their upstairs bedroom. For a moment, she considers unblocking the main-floor double doors, to shorten the distance they'd have to travel through possibly-occupied hallways with their incriminating load...but even if the room wasn't much used, someone was bound to notice eventually that its security had been compromised, and then the questions would begin.

So, signaling to Yazi, she makes her way back through the basement hallways, up the servant's stair, and across the expanse of corridors to her waiting bedroom...

Taking 10 on Stealth for 13.

If they make it unnoticed:

With her illicit burden finally behind closed doors again, Mouse sets it on the ground, careful to avoid a thump of protest from the crate, and grabs one of the folios, beginning to leaf through it and looking for something simple enough to serve as a starting point. Pages and pages of tidy and inscrutable ledgers, complex family tree diagrams, and inexplicable pages of hand-written music staves whirl before her, but after a few moments' search, something catches her eye...

1d20 ⇒ 4

The hallways are seemingly abandoned as the two ladies make a rush for the bedroom. This is mostly due to the grand majority of the people of the house leaving during the day to make some money on the streets. In the distance, one can hear the chanting and warbling of Garel outside the gate, as his preferred spot can still keep an eye on the comings and goings.

The Fordyce family has some interesting history with just about every drama one could imagine. But the surrogate box held within it a bit of a surprise. In the very top of the box, obviously put in there last was a lady's script, obviously tearstained. It read:

Eliesanore Lianthana Macarte Fordyce,

My dearest and most delicate flower. We tried so hard to have you and now you are taken from us. If you ever find this, I want you to know you were loved by your real parents, and we never stopped looking for you. It seems the stars were aligned against us, but a Varisian fortuneteller told us that one day you would meet your brother Calcedon. Please treat him well, he is your blood and one with us in heart. Don't look up my relatives in Cheliax, they have disowned me for marrying such a pauper from a backwater city. But I love your father, and we wish you happiness.

Schanra Lianthana Altopy Fordyce

Looking through the rest of the documents it became evident that Calcedon's parents had great difficulty having children. They struggled for eighteen years to bring Calcedon into the world, the first of their children born alive after seven stillbirths. Infertility had been a problem in the last few generations of Fordyces, and it was seen as a good thing when Andoricus married Schanra of Altopy, a middling baron from near the Whispering Wood. But it wasn't any easier for them to continue their line.

What was in the box was a plan to allow the family to borrow the body of a woman down on her luck. With the help of a hedge witch rumored to have been involved in the fertility exploits of several Cheliaxian houses who had similar difficulties, the plan was to use the woman's body to bear the child since the mother had become less fertile over time.

The woman wasn't named in the literature, but the procedure was covered in detail, as well as the deed to a large tract of land north of Harse along the Sarwin River that was the surrogate's payment. There was a small note rolled up with this as well, that simply read "Can't part wit her. She's my hart. Im sory. Somday Ill tel her."