Curse of the Crimson Throne

Game Master Something Wicked

"Pellius."

He turned to see the Dawnfather standing behind him, head bowed in concern.

"Dawnfather, I..."

"Please. It's just Valdus here."

"I should have handled it better, I should have-"

"Pellius, don't. I know you are angry. I know what you've learned hurts...probably more than I can imagine. It's not wrong to feel this way. You're not a saint or an angel. You're a human being." He knelt beside Pellius, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I can't...I can't get rid of it. I try to pray and all I can hear is her screaming. I drill and every target looks like his horrible face, grinning at me! How can I simply forgive that? Forget that?"

Valdus sighed. "You don't. You're a paladin now."

Pellius' eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"The Dawnflower gives second chances to us all. Third, fourth chances even. But some people, no matter how many chances they get, choose to hurt others. Some...just don't care. And when you meet people like that, sometimes the only answer for them is a sharpened length of steel. Why did you think we even have a room to drill for battle in? Paladins defend the faith...but they also strike down the unrepentant. This man, this Gaedren. He's hurt others besides you. Sarenrae would not hold his death against you. And in fact would probably be more disappointed that you're wasting your time trying to bring yourself to forgive someone who doesn't want to be forgiven."

He turned away a bit, looking at the spear and sword he'd leaned against the column.

"You learned how to use those for a reason," said Valdus. "Revenge may not be the same thing as justice...but I think you know the difference well enough to judge for yourself. And even if you do stray...that is why Sarenrae offers you a second chance. To turn back to the light and learn from your mistakes."

Pellius stood, and took up the weapons and turned back to his teacher. The fire was still there, still burning, but it felt quieter now, steadier. He knew Gaedren had to pay for his crimes. But it wasn't just about him anymore. It wasn't about his mother, but about what was right. He turned to the door, and stepped into the street, looking up into the sky and closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the sun warm his skin. He was ready.

He found his greatest discovery in Tear, his first and strongest love. They did everything together, sharing new experiences every day. She even taught him about magic, how weaves through the earth beneath him and the air around them. She was stronger with magic and could even see it all around them. Jamros relished the challenge of finding her secret. His pursuit of knowledge naturally led him to Korvosa’s prestigious school of magic, the Academae.

Tear didn't like that idea. The Academae was a scary place filled with nasty demons, creepy rituals and homework worst of all, but Jamros didn't listen. He told her “There's so much to find there and so many spells they'll make your spin.” that was the last time he spoke to Tear and the very next day he applied for enrollment. The Academae’s caretakers were all too willing to accept a race as magically gifted as gnomes into their ranks.

And yet the small gnome disappointed them at every turn. For several years Jamros toiled under the watchful gaze of his professors. Realizing that their magic was not like Tears magic, he shunned the all of his teachings and availed himself entirely on the school's vast repository of written knowledge. There were so many spells. So many new, colorful and exciting spells. But nothing like Tears magic. This was the first time Jamros had felt learning something had wasted his time and he knew that only Tear had the answers he sought. Dropping out was simple enough. The Academae wanted nothing to do with Jamros at that point and were all too quick to verily shove him out the door.

But what awaited the young gnome outside the school's walls was not the life he had left behind. It wasn't long before Jamros discovered Tears whereabouts. The Grey district was a lonely place and he felt that quite keenly as he sat crying at the gravestone. How inadequate it felt. So insufficient to contain the splendor that was her life. And the more he thought about it, the more inadequacy he found. In the grey quarter-No! The whole damn city. It disgusted him, so much so that he needed a distraction from it all.

Then a distraction came. Trail of smoke that seemed to beckon to him. He followed without question, winding his way through the many rows of stones and treading deeper into Korvosa’s history. All around him wisps of smoke appeared, taking shape and forming great canopies. Suddenly they weren't smoke anymore and Jamros wasn't in Korvosa. The air was filled with sound of songbirds and buzzing bees. And the roses! They were everywhere and best of all they were black instead of red. Jamros thought that rather curious and he wanted so badly to smell one. Leaning forward he inhaled deep, but instead of a rich bouquet, he smelled sulfur. He felt very hot suddenly and turning around it became clear why. The roses were on fire, burning to a crisp. Jamros wanted to run, but his path was blocked. A single tombstone sat before him. Carved on its face were many letters, but only one name seemed important. Thrune.

Years later when Jamros thought back on his life, he wondered why he had snuck onto that merchant ship Cheliax. At the time he told himself it was so he could discover more of the world, but now he knew better. Magic, true magic had shown itself to him and this “Thrune” would know why. Discovery didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was that unfinished puzzle and he would do anything to solve it.

It's still kind of a work in progress, but I'm using the sample RP to iron out the rest.

“My big chance? For what, to prance about in silly clothes and pretend smile at everyone?” Jamros said, not bothering to look up from his book.

“It'll be a nice change of pace from all the bloody messes you get yourself into.” Steven said, shuddering. “And besides, it's not like you're in the churches favor right now. Maybe smoothing over relations with Korvosa will show them you're more than the wild attack dog who sniffs out game and….are you even listening?”

Jamros closed the book loudly, thumping it on the table as he pushed his pale green hair from his face. “Well you see this book is very interesting and I was getting to the best part before you so rudely interrupted.” he said as he reached for his hat and placed it on his head.

“You're going out? Lord Virgil will be expecting a respo-”

Jamros raised a hand, silencing the young squire. “Lord Sagging-Jowls Will get his answer in due time Steven. I have important matters to attend to.” he said then motioned towards the weapon rack. “Fetch me Glenda.”

Steven sighed exasperated, but heeded his master. “I'll never understand why you choose to carry such a cumbersome weapon. Why not the mace?” he said, frustration making way for curiosity.

“Where I'm going it's best not to display my badge of office.” Jamros replied, slotting the double ended staff into the grooves on his exquisitely crafted leather armor. “Don't wait up for me.”

_________________________

“Right then, there's the paperwork. It will get you safe passage on the Gliding Gale.” the rotund merchant exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Now I must ask, what sparked this sudden interest in Tian Xia hmm?”

Darren could think of any number of reasons to depart from Cheliax, though he doubted it would be wise to disclose them to a sleazy merchant. So he merely replied “J-just seeing the sights. Felt like I needed a change you know?”

The corpulent man nodded in mock agreement. “Of course, of course. After all, I hear Tian Xia is beautiful this time of…” he stopped suddenly, taking notice of a figure at the back of the shop. “Can I help kind sir?” he said giving a smile That revealed several gold teeth.

“Unfortunately no.” the robed figure replied, pulling out a hooked pole casually. “You see, it's this gentleman here that has something I need.”

Darren, recognizing the voice, reached for his wand, but the stranger was quicker, sending the blunt end of his weapon in a rising arc that smacked Darren upside the head. The blow made him reel, but it gave him time to aim his wand. Darren muttered a few arcane words under his breath and sent a small globe of acid hurtling towards his assailant. The attack would have hit its mark, but the man spun his strange weapon about, deflecting the acid. A few drops were able to get past his defenses however, and sizzled as they made contact with his cloak.

Darren sneered then barreled forward hoping to catch his attacker by surprise. The stranger threw off his cloak, revealing a small man with pale green hair, and he reacted by sweeping the blunt end of his weapon in a low arc. The maneuver caught Darren off guard and his momentum caused him to trip and face plant.

Jamros stood over the mages prone form, holding the hooked end of his weapon inches from his throat. “And where do you think you're going?” he asked, leaving the hooked end of Glenda hovering mere inches from the man's throat.

“No where! I was just going on a short vacation is all.” Darren blurted, eyeing the hook fearfully. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Oh heavens no. Everyone needs a vacation every now and again.” he said with a chuckle, pulling a notebook out of pocket. “Some more than others it would seem. You know I read a fascinating book recently. Would you care to hear about it? Of course you would.”

Jamros flipped through his notes one handed, not removing the hook from Darrens throat. “Its a story about a boy who was so very lonely. So lonely in fact that he decided to pay pretty women to be friends with him. Trouble was, the boy didn't have any money and the money he did have belonged to the state. So he stopped giving them money so he could be happy with his new friends. However all good things must end, and the boy became very frightened when the state discovered his trick. What did he do? Well he ran far away and he lived happily ever after.” Jamros’ speech culminated with him closing his notes and replacing them in his pocket. “Now, what do you say we tell that nice little story to the guards hmm?” he said, and with a flourish, spun his pole about. Darren didn't have time to react as the pole smacked the back of head, knocking him unconcience.

Jamros sighed and was about to call the guards when he spotted something among the merchants wares that caught his eye. The merchant cowered when Jamros approached with a mad grin. “Salutations good sir. Might I inquire as to where you found that brooch?” he said indicating a silver brooch that depicted a songbird grasping a boquet of flowers in it's talons.

The merchant tried to put on his customary smile, but his lips were quivering as he began to speak. “Ah y-yes, a most delightful piece is it not?”

“Yes, and one I am intimately familiar with.” Jamros replied no longer smiling. “And I don't believe you answered my question.”

“Well I've had this brooch for some years. It was sold to me by one of my contacts in Korvosa.”

“And who was this contact exactly?” Jamros said with an eery calm, as he leaned forward over the counter.

“I don't know his real name, but he called himself a lamb.” the merchant said, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.

“Lambs?” Jamros mouthed, then he was smiling again and chuckled. “Thank you, you've been very co-operative.” he said before smashing the glass counter with his hammer and gingerly removed the brooch from among the broken glass. “You have good night now, Mr Samiir.” Jamros said as he skipped out of the shop, whistling a merry tune.

Samiir wiped the sweat from his brow and replied “Th-thank you for your patronage sir.” but Jamros was no longer listening. He was far too engrossed in his own thoughts Maybe I'll stop by Lord Virgil’s office after turning in young Darren. I do believe I have that answer now.

-To be continued

Once Lamm discovered Emilio could use real magic, he told him to start doing magic tricks. He didn't say how the boy was supposed to do this, just when and where to do it. That meant Emilio had to work fast and learn quick. He had to recall the minor parlor tricks his father performed and watch street performers to make a good show. His first attempts were less than stellar, and he paid for them. By the time he got it, he was almost as spotted as a Dalmatian. But when people finally started to stop and watch, things changed. Now he was Lamm's favorite, his golden goose. With real magic, Emilio could out perform all the other corner magicians. That meant Lamm was getting more money from his little Lamb's that were sifting through the audience, cutting purses and picking pockets.

Unfortunately, this also separated him from all the other's like him under Lamm's rule. He was Gaedren's favorite. He was treated differently, better. They didn't like that. And they showed him how much they didn't more than once. Things escalated slowly. First it was shunning. No one talked to him like they used to. Then they completely ignored him, giving him mean looks. He tried to share the extra stuff, food and blankets and such, that he was getting, but it didn't help. It eventually devolved into mean pranks, tripping, shoving, itching powder. And then outright violence. More than once Lamm had to step in to protect his investment.

They never realized the pressure he was under to perform, to meet expectations, or meet Lamm's foot. If he wasn't getting it from the orphan's he was getting it from Lamm. Its no wonder he snapped one day. He'd had enough. He pulled a knife on one of the other children, one of the bigger and meaner ones, right out on the streets. The guard took it from there. Gaedren went to clear him out but he wasn't in the cell. All they found was the key ring, which usually hung several feet away, in the lock of his open cell.

Emilio planned the escape. He knew his magic could reach the keys and intentionally got himself arrested. Once free, he disappeared into the shadows of Korvosa. For a short time he tried to find legitimate work, but thievery was too hard wired into him at this point and he was untrusting of everyone. Eventually he fell in with the only group he could count on to be anything but trustworthy, the Cerulean Society. They were largest band of rogues and cutthroats in the city. They could offer protection but only if he could offer something equal. For once, Lamm's teaching actually aided him here. He was a more than capable thief and smarter than most of them too. He also found he had an invaluable knack for spellcraft. Sure, he was in almost the same situation he was in with Lamm, but at least he was free to choose it this time. And that made all the difference.

Suddenly Aleziella bumps into someone. Her thoughts distracting her from looking where she is going. The contact painfully presses her hard armor against her bruised flesh, squishing her sizable breasts flat against her chest. She lets out a pained gasp as she tries to get her bearings.

Erutraxus snaps around as he feels her pain through their bond. However whoever crashed into her is already gone in the crowd. ”Damn, fast bastard.” the devil’s voice grates through her mind.

As Aleziella scans the crowd she notices she got a note in her hand. The bumper must have crashed into her on purpose to deliver it. She opens the paper and scans it quickly. ”I can help you get back at Lamm. You are not alone.” She turns the note and finds a crude sketch of the docks.

Nevermind who it was Erutraxus. Someone is looking to help us. A wicked grin spreads across her face as she thinks of the horrible things Lamm has done to her and how she wishes to pay him back tenfold.

”Ali?”

Thoughts of revenge are for the moment banished from her mind and a warm smile spreads across her face. “Tyrek!” She squeals and runs towards the man, jumping at him with open arms. The impact yet again causes pain to spread through her from her fresh hard guard uniform being pressed against her bruised flesh. ”Ouf!” The pain can’t stop the warmth from spreading through her chest, nor banish the smile from her face.

”What are you doing here? How did you get away from Lamm?” He throws the questions out, almost at random, wanting both to hear her voice and desperately needing a moment to regain his composure.

Suddenly the towering figure of Erutraxus is right next to them. The coal black eyes of the devil looks straight at the half-orc with burning intensity from deep within the cowl of it’s cloak. In a low grating voice it says. “We set each other free. Lamm, is still alive, but not for long.”

Aleziella looks up at Tyrek with tear-filled eyes. “Will you help me? He did things...” She starts crying into his chest. Suddenly having him close makes her able to feel vulnerable again,to depend on him, a feeling she hadn’t had for many years.

Arriving back at his lodgings a few minutes later Tyrek gently lays Ali down on the bed, before calling loudly to the land-lady for hot water and towels. When they arrive he begins gently sponging down her arms and faces, carefully removing the layers of grime caked to her skin. Just as he finishes the land-lady brings a second basin of water.
”I’ll… err… leave you to finish off by yourself” Yeah, real smooth, she’s going to think you don’t like her.... On his way out of the door Tyrek pauses, before fishing into his pack and tossing her a shirt. ”Here, I don’t think it will fit any better than the last one, but at least its clean this time.”

The sponge sting as it travels across her bruised skin, but her chest wells with warmth at the care he shows her. Her tears dry up and she can’t help but put on a small smile as he takes care of her. When he hands her the sponge she takes it regretfully, wishing that he had continued, still she is thankful for what comfort he has provided. “Thank you.” She says softly and moves to finish cleaning herself.

“Wait!” Aleziella calls out, despair suddenly in her voice again. ”Don’t leave me alone! Not now.” She clutches his shirt to her chest. ”Just hold me tonight, please? After what he did, I don’t want to be alone.” She shudders, more at the thought of being alone with the memories of what Lamm did rather than the cold from the water drying off her skin.

The next morning Tyrek wakes early, snapping into consciousness abruptly. The long curls of blonde hair draped across his chest bring the events of the previous night flooding back and a smile spreads gently across his face, reflecting the warmth in his chest. Shifting carefully out from underneath Ali’s smooth arm Tyrek is about to make for the door when suddenly he sees the corner of parchment peaking out from underneath it. He gently shakes Aleziella awake. ”Hey Ali. Looks like we’re not done yet…”