In-character speech should be posted in bold.
"I shall run you through for your treachery, swine!"
Out-of-character speech should be in "ooc".
Dice rolls should be done using the boards' dice roller.
Spoiler anything that the others wouldn't/shouldn't know.
I reply in orc.
Garvus stared sullenly into his mug of ale. It was weak, likely watered down to increase the barkeep's profits, but Gavrus didn't care. He hadn't worked in almost a month and it was only the money he'd given the barkeep fifteen years ago that kept him in drink and a dry bed at night.
"You need work," the barkeep said as he busied himself, attempting to clean the alcohol-soaked bar top, "You're stinking up the place and driving off the honest custom."
Gavrus grunted in reply. The barkeep knew him, knew much of what had happened to him and over the years they'd become some fashion of friends. He knew that once he died, the barkeep would probably breath a sigh of relief but for now, the barkeep was his most constant source of companionship although Gavrus could barely remember his name. Jodreth or something similar. His words were meant in half-jest although Garvus knew that he probably stunk to high heaven.
"I'll head up to my room," Gavrus replied flatly and drained what was left of his ale. He stood, slightly unsteady, and traipsed up the stairs to his small box of a room. It had one small window that let the cold in during the winter and a bed that was ridden with bed mites and woodworm. Despite this, it was home. With a beer-soaked sigh, Gavrus dropped himself into his bed and let oblivion claim him.
The dream was always the same. It started with Gavrus, his wife Amelia and their daughter Maria laughing in the back garden of their townhouse. After a few minutes, Maria disappeared and Gavrus ran out of the house looking for her. He found her, emaciated and lifeless, her cold, dead eyes staring at him in accusation.
"You were supposed to protect me, daddy," her voice would rasp. Gavrus would back away from her corpse, fleeing back towards the house. As he ran through the front door, he was confronted with his wife, swinging from the landing railing by her neck. Her eyes were also lifeless and yet they seemed to pierce him to his very soul.
"You left me, Gavrus, you went to chase down Lamm and let me die," her voice said in the same rasping quality his daughter had. Gavrus screamed.
Gavrus sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat streaming from every pore in his body. From the darkness, he guessed he'd been asleep for a few hours but he felt as though he'd just done the hardest days work in his life. With a shudder, he tried to forget what he had just seen.
Timerus awoke in a sweat. As he had many a time since his childhood. In a panic he looked around to get his bearings. the dream again. Abadar, when would they end?! He stood up, clad only in a nightshirt, and moved to the washbasin on the desk in his room in the cloisters. He tossed some water on his face.
lifting is head up he looked into is blood streaked eyes. Tim old boy, these nightmares have to end some time. he dried his face and hands with a dishrag he kept by the basin. He had no idea of the hour. But it was as good as time as any and now that he was awake, he knew sleep wouldn't find him again this day.
He begin to meticulously dress for the day and once finished, leaving his spear and crossbow and only taking his mace and dagger, he went out of the cloisters and down the shadowed hall to the shrine for the lesser priests. He moved inside and took a seat at one of the pews and began to go through his morning prayers.
A voice behind him startled him a few minutes later. "Up early again Timerus?"
Yes. he said simply not breaking his rituals, though he recognized the voice from Banker Minthalus. One of his Teachers when he arrived as a boy on the steps of the Church of Abadar.
"The Nightmares again?"
Yes. this time his voice was less steady and he looked up at his old Mentor. I fear that until Lamm is brought to justice I will be plagued with them for as long as I draw breath.
"I know it is silly for me to ask you to put this from your heart. I have before and it has done no good. But I will try again. The city needs us more than ever. With King Arabasti ill, and his wife taking more and more control of the governing, I fear the unrest in the people will only grow. We need to be a steadying force. Your 'quest' is not for the good of the people."
His voice steeling I disagree Sirrah. Lamm is an example of the worst kinds of depravity this city suffers. He is a blight on the soul of the city. Only his ready coin has stopped me twice before. Corrupt City Guards stopped my petitions in the courts twice! Daily we still see his touch in certain areas of the city. If we the church stood up to him and men like him, like Devargo Bavassi, then this city could come together, and begin healing. Yeah even perhaps unite under the Law of Abadar. But as long as we keep our heads in vaults and out of the light of day, they feel they can get away with everything. Nay I cannot put this away Minthalus. I dare not. Not only my soul but the soul of all that is good and right is in danger. The next time I won't go to the guards. The next time I will see Justice brought to Gaedran Lamm.
The elderly priest placed a hand on Timerus' shoulder and said softly. "your belief in our master is strong. He will guide your hands and deeds where they are needed most. If that is to mete out justice, then it shall be...but if it is help keep the coin of the people safe then that is where you will be."
Yes Minthalus. Abadar is my guiding beacon in the darkness. His will shall be done. May the balance of the scales be kept.
"May the balance of The Scales be kept"
Minthalus sat down next to Timerus and the both shared morning prayers in quiet....
Ten gold, the fat merchant had taken for her father's rapier. She only vaguely remembered selling it to him when the sickness was on her. He had given her a single gold coin, but that had been enough for her to get a dose of shiver from Gaedren Lamm. Was that the dose that dropped me in the vaults, or was it some other dose, later?
That had been a hell of its own. She had taken too much, gone straight from the sickness of needing shiver to a near coma from overdosing, and what had Lamm done? Had her hauled out and dumped in the vaults, with the rest of Korvosa's refuse. She had woken there, in the dark, laying in a pile of filth, and all she could think of was getting more of the drug.
In a terrible way, she was fortunate that the vaults were such a maze. She didn't know how many days she spent crawling around in the darkness, looking for a way out, but it was long enough for the sickness of need to pass. It left her weak, and she felt the loss of her father as though it had been two days instead of two years earlier. The drug had not taken the pain away, it only delayed it.
When she finally crawled into the light, she was changed. Her grief was a knife that gave her the strength to resist temptation. Two years she had given to the drug, afraid to face it, and let her father's killer walk free and carefree. She would find him, but she knew she was far too weak to take her revenge, so she set about strengthening herself.
To grow strong meant finding food and shelter. That meant finding coin, but Glimoril felt no qualms at all stealing from the shiver dealers who had gladly taken her coin and fed her poison. There were plenty to choose from. When she was able to face him, she went to her father's old friend, Perishial Kalissreavil, to ask his help. He gave her a bow and some old leathers, but there was doubt in his eyes. She had a vague memory of visiting him when she was taking shiver.
"Whatever I did," she said. "I will make right."
He had said nothing, but she left feeling that she would have to prove herself to him. The first step would be to retrieve her father's sword. The fat merchant had sold it for ten gold to some young would-be fencer from Threemast Street in East Shore. She found him and followed him, watching from the shadows for three days. In that time, despite a lot of tough talk among his friends, she saw he was a harmless enough young man.
She let himself in through a window and took the rapier. In its place she left a gold ring that she had taken from a shiver dealer. It seemed a reasonable trade. It was a step towards repairing the harm she had done to her honor.
She found a tavern and bought a flagon of wine, and wondered if she was ready to go after Hallen yet, but there was one other thing. Dumping her in the vaults for dead had been the last, but not the worst offense Gaedren Lamm had given her when she was in the grip of shiver. None of the dealers were kind souls, but Lamm had taken a particular delight in abusing the addicts who came to him in desperation. He would have to answer.
People passed on the street, walking around him without a second glance. They had lives to go back to, things to do, people to see. Eleazar only had his thirst for revenge and his ruined life.
He could not say how long he had been on the corner staring across the street at the building where most of his family worked, but it had to be at least thirty minutes. His brother had told him that father wanted him to come back home, that he could work flaying, soaking and dehairing the pelts to be made into parchament. It was a generous offer, but one Eleazar could not bring himself to accept. His father and Uncle had been so proud of him when he went off to the arcane college, even if it hadn't been the prestigous Acadamae. How could he show come home now a failure.
"No." he muttered to himself. One of the passerbys on the street glanced at him, then continued on her way. Eleazar turned away from his family business and began walking North. A man like Lamm wouldn't be in the Southend. But how to find him? Where to look? He couldn't do this alone, that much he knew.
Korvosa had no shortage of taverns, bars, or drinking holes. Eleazar had grown up all his life in the city and he knew a good deal. Though he'd never frequented such places, he could find his way into the dismal drinkking establishments of the less savory districts of Korvosa. His journey took him to the front door of one such place and after making sure he still had the recently purchased mace at his side, he entered.
For all his book knowledge, Eleazar didn't know much about the underbelly of society. Gathering information, backroom deals, tracking a killer... all those things were the stuff of books and stories to him. Perhaps foolishly he approached the bar and set down a single gold coin, which he covered with his hand.
"Barkeep. I am in need of a glass of wine and some information. I looking for somebody, if you can help me I can make it worth your while." The look in Eleazar's eyes and the set of his jaw betrayed his intentions. He was looking to settle a score and it was obvious to any who were accustomed to reading a man's face.
It’s Wealday, 9 Desnus, 4708 in Korvosa, Varisia. It’s a warm and sunny spring day, although there is little warmth or sunlight in your heart today. You'd hoped that the old addage about time healing hearts would prove true, but it hasn't. By the gods, it hasn't.
Upon closer inspection, you see that it is a Harrow card - those used by Varisian fortunetellers - that depicts a crowd of angry people bearing torches and brandishing farm tools. Turning the card over, you read in a whispy, flawless pen the following:
"I know what Lamm has done to you. He has wounded me as well. I have learned where the coward hides, but am unable to strike at him myself. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street tomorrow at sundown. Others like you will be there. Lamm has much to pay for and justice must be done."
Upon closer inspection, you see that it is a Harrow card - those used by Varisian fortunetellers - that depicts a winged serpent, it's mouth frozen in an angry hiss. Turning the card over, you read in a whispy, flawless pen the following:
"I know what Lamm has done to you. He has wounded me as well. I have learned where the coward hides, but am unable to strike at him myself. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street tomorrow at sundown. Others like you will be there. Lamm has much to pay for and justice must be done."
Upon closer inspection, you see that it is a Harrow card - those used by Varisian fortunetellers - that depicts a jovial juggler entertaining a crowd on the street. Turning the card over, you read in a whispy, flawless pen the following:
"I know what Lamm has done to you. He has wounded me as well. I have learned where the coward hides, but am unable to strike at him myself. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street tomorrow at sundown. Others like you will be there. Lamm has much to pay for and justice must be done."
As you lift the cup to your mouth, something on the bar catches your eye, a small card resting where the cup had just been a moment before. Upon closer inspection, you see that it is a Harrow card - those used by Varisian fortunetellers - that depicts a lone wanderer, laden with belongings, traveling down a lonely road. Turning the card over, you read in a whispy, flawless pen the following:
"I know what Lamm has done to you. He has wounded me as well. I have learned where the coward hides, but am unable to strike at him myself. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street tomorrow at sundown. Others like you will be there. Lamm has much to pay for and justice must be done."
Glimoril, you notice a man (Eleazar) studying a similar card with a confused expression across the barroom.
Gavrus' world dropped away until he was aware of only the blood pounding in his ears and the card he held in his hand. Emotion boiled up from behind his breast and he gripped the card tightly between thumb and forefinger.
Lamm. It was a singular thought accompanied by no other. It was a trap. It had to be a trap. For fifteen years, Gavrus had tried to pin that rat bastard down to a location and now a note appeared seemingly out of thin air? Did Lamm think Gavrus a fool? With a snarl, he tossed the card onto his bed and headed for the door.
He stopped as his hand gripped the handle. Even if it was a trap, Lamm might be there. At the very least, someone who knew him must be there. Gavrus knew he was getting old but perhaps anger and rage could carry him on? He had some armour and an enormous club hidden under his bed for just this occasion. He wasn't getting any younger and even if Lamm killed him... he'd have Amelia and Maria back.
Turning slowly, Gavrus stared at the card on his bed as it almost felt as though it was beckoning him forward. He let go of the handle and strode across the room in two strides, snatching the card up again and stared at it intently as though doing so would yield more information.
3 Lancet Street, he thought to himself, trying to think if he'd heard the address before.
Gavrus knew in that instant that he would go there tomorrow at sundown. This was the closest he had been to Lamm in years. It might even be true. Perhaps he would go there and someone would lay Lamm on a platter for him. Gavrus sat back down on his bed and stared at the card as his mind whisked him away into a reverie where he imagined all the ways he would hurt Lamm.
He sat like that for what seemed like hours but when he looked back at the window, it was still dark outside. Suddenly he realised that his mouth was dry and that he needed a drink. Pulling himself up from the bed, he opened the door to his room and headed downstairs to speak to Jodreth.
As she sets the card down, Glimoril frowns into the sour wine. Her first thought is excitement, and what would really give a shine to that feeling? No. Never again, she told herself. Tempting as it may be, she had put that behind her. Forever. She took another gulp of wine, shaking the thought off. It was there, always, waiting to taint every bright moment, but she had beaten it. Would continue to beat it until it no longer haunted her thoughts.
She looked in the cup, but it was empty. She had lost the mood for revelry anyway, though she was pleased at the gentle pull of the sword at her hip. She looked around the room and was surprised to see a well groomed man in a scholar's robe staring at a card like the one she had been given. Was it possible? She tried to think, he had just been speaking to the barman, but she had hardly listened to him.
Before she could do more than register these things, heavy footsteps thumped down the steps, and a heavyset man appeared in the common room. His smell reached her a moment later. Sour wine and sweat, the smell of the city. The not-quite-desperate-enough-for-shiver quarters, at least. She was turning back to the first man when a slip of paper caught her eye. The big man was holding a card as well.
Her eyes cut to the door. If this was to be an ambush, she would not play the part of the victim easily. She put a coin on the bar and left the card as she stood up, walking casually towards the door, alert to any hint of movement from the others.
Timerus held the car in his hand, looking around...where had it come from? the thought flickered across the surface of his mind. Father Minthalus? and just as quickly.....no! not Father Minthalus. I would have noticed that...
He turned the card over and looked at the face of it. A winged serpent, it's mouth frozen in an angry hiss. Varisian fortune tellers card. He had no idea what it could mean. or why that card was chosen. His orderly mind ticked off what to do today. Research what the card could mean. Research where it might have come from. Research this 3rd Lancet Street. He almost could pick out in his mind where the address was. He had run those streets as a child working for Lamm, who favored Midlands, and in particular The Dock Area.
For now though he had to go to work in The Bank area of the Church. He tucked the card into his belt pouch. He made his way from the cloister shrine up stairs to the main entry and across the hall to the Heavily Guarded Bank. He nodded to the guards and went through the secure gate, to behind the Teller Counter and took his place at one of the stalls. He looked at the woman who was to his right. An aging priestess who's father had been Varisian and who's mother had been Chelaxian. They shared the stigma of being half breeds. They were acquaintances of sorts. Having worked beside each other for a couple years now. Like most of the clergy though, she thought him a little off because of his obsession. Her name was Valma Da'Coeur.
He smiled at her and said as he did every morning Morning Valma How was your evening? an exchange of pleasantries occurred and then he slipt in. by the way, I had a client yesterday right before closing, ask how much we could insure a well stylized set of Pictographs...Cards if you will. The kind found in a Varisian Fortune Teller's Deck. Good one by the look of it. I have no idea what it might be worth. Any idea where I could go to find out information on these? who makes them? What makes them special? How you would guage the quality? What kind of pictures they might have? What things mean? I told the person I'd get back to them this afternoon.
"Jodreth," Gavrus rumbled, "Need a word." Gavrus sat at the end of the bar and placed his card on the counter top. When Jodreth finally came over, Gavrus nodded at the card.
"Any idea about this? Anyone you know that uses harrow cards to communicate? Message on the back is interesting," Gavrus indicated to a free waitress that he'd take a mug of ale.
"I might finally have him," he whispered urgently to Jodreth, a manic glint in his eye, "After all these years, I might finally get to put the rat bastard in the grave."
Eleazar took off his scholars hat and set it down on the bar, literally scratching his head over the appearence of this mysterious Tarot card. Had the bartender slipped it to him despite his words of caution. He read it again and pursed his lips in thought, then flipped it over and studied the picture of the lonely traveler. Looking discreetly about the drinking establishment, he slipped the card into one of the inside pockets of his robes.
Settling down on the barstool he drank the watered down wine. It wasn't particularly good, but he hadn't come in here looking for a drink. In fact, this card was exactly the sort of thing he was hoping to find. It seemed someone was watching out for Eleazar Cor.
When Gavrus stomped down the stairs watched him warily. The man had a reputation not just as a drunkard, but also as a bruiser. His love for drink was undoubtedly what got him ejected from the Korvosan guard.
Yet in his cautious appraisal of the larger man Eleazar noticed the tarot card the man had in hand and then set down on open display. Was this the fellow that wanted to meet with him on Lancet Street or more likely he was one of the 'others like you' that the mysterious author of the message indicated would also be invited.
Trying his best to be discrete, Eleazar attempted to listen in to what Gavrus and Jodreth were conversing about.
Valma replies politely, but without looking up from her ledger, to Timerus' greeting and then continues to respond to his inquiry with a faint hint of disapproval. "Do you mean a Harrow deck, Timerus? Such nonsense preys upon the foolish and I distance myself from it. I suppose if you wanted to learn the value of such a thing, you'd have to seek out such a fortuneteller, but mind your valuables. Those scoundrels will relieve you of them if given the slightest opportunity."
Jodreth studies the Harrow card quickly before slapping it back down on the bar. "That there 'arrow card is a finer one than I usually see roun' 'ere. I 'aven't a clue who mighta left it. You don' think it's a trap, do ya?"
Jodreth does a bad job hiding a hint of hope from his voice when he mentions a trap.
Eleazar's Perception
Eleazar tries to listen in on the conversation Gavrus is having with the barkeep, but the tavern common room is simply too noisy. There was one word though that the barkeep spoke just loud enough to be heard, "...trap..."
That word did not inspire much confidence in Eleazar. In fact, he almost spilled some of his wine when it was uttered. Turning away from Gavrus for the moment, he let his dark eyes sweep the interior of the establishment once more.
He determined that he would shadow Gavrus for now. If he left the bar, he would soon follow behind him, if he stayed, so too would he... at least till tomorrow afternoon.
Glimoril lets the door of the tavern close behind her and crosses the street quickly. As moments pass, and neither of the other two men come out after her, she lets out a nervous breath and thinks. If it is an ambush, it's more likely that it will be set for tomorrow, so it was just as likely that the two men inside were to be victims as well. Lamm has burned a lot of people, but is he smart enough for something like this?
The trouble was, she had no idea how smart he was. It didn't take much of a brain to get rich off of children and shiver, but he had been doing it for a long time. He had to have some degree of cunning. Glimoril knew she would simply have to have more. She strolled down to Lancet Street, and took a look at the building and the area nearby, looking for likely places to hide, to snipe from, and ways in and out. If someone was planning an ambush, there was no reason not to plan one of her own.
Glimoril arrives at Lancet Street and finds a collection of small, old townhouses. In the darkness, their colors seem muted, but the sliver of moon casts enough light for an elf to comfortably survey the site. Number 3 is a handsome home with vines growing heavily on the walls. Flowers are potted in hanging troughs beneath each window and the front door looks freshly painted in royal purple. Next to the door, a large bay window displays writing in exquisite and whispy (and familiar) penmanship:
Madame Zellara's
World-Famous Harrow Readings and Fortunes
Come in any time, dawn to dusk.
The house is dark and no sign of life is visible on the street.
From a tactical standpoint, this is a poor location for an ambush. There are escape routes and potential covers everywhere. Any engagement here would be a mess with a hundred ways it could go wrong. And besides, there was something...friendly about the home/shop. Glimoril couldn't put her finger on it, but she realized that she felt much more peaceful than she had in the tavern.
Gavrus fixes Jodreth with a piercing stare.
"I thought about that, and I'm going to go anyway. Closest I've been in years and even if he doesn't turn up I could find someone who knows where he is now," Gavrus clenches the card tightly after finishing his cider. "If I don't come back, toss out what's left in the room and you can have it back."
With that, Gavrus strode back upstairs and pulled out his weapon and armour and gave them a good going over. Once he had done so to his liking, he crawled back into the bed and fell asleep once more.
At Valma's words, Timerus smiled...he had forgotten how biting she could be about her people's history. She worked hard to live down the 'gypsy image'.
Harrow Deck then, just so. Any suggestions as to where I should go?
He then makes small talk with her.
On his lunch break he intends to go across to to the Courthouse and see if he can find out who lives at 3 Lancet Street, without raising any suspicions of course.
Glimoril spends the night under the stars, as she has come to enjoy doing whenever the night is clear. Particularly since her time in the vaults, she finds the sky reassuring. She stays close to Lancet street, though. While the house felt friendly and her suspicions of danger are alleviated, she is still terribly curious about the card. At dawn, she helps herself to a roll from a baker's window, and finds a spot a few doors down from number 3, where she can discretely watch to see who comes and goes during the day.
Later, you casually walk past the home. You observe no activity at all. So far as you can tell, no one is home nor do they return while you're there. There is some activity at most of the other houses though. It seems a pleasant neighborhood, if not at the lower end of the middle class.
Valma offered you no names or locations, only that you'd need to find a Varisian fortuneteller. Those are easy enough to find, though it's pretty common knowledge that most of them are Szcarni frauds and cons.
You find a young Varisian woman with a small table set up in a square just a couple of blocks from the Bank of Abadar. The woman sees you approaching and brightens up like a summer morning. She flirts with you shamelessly, laying it on really thick. When you ask about Harrow cards, she smiles knowingly and holds out a soft, smooth hand with long, red fingernails.
You drop a gold coin into her palm and she makes a point of letting her fingers rub against yours. She then takes the card and examines it. "It's lovely, she says. "This card comes from a finer deck than most of us can afford. Older, too, than most you see. I'd guess it is an heirloom. It's a pity someone wrote on it. Such an ugly message, too.
"Depending on where it comes up in the Harrowing, the Feathered Serpent signifies the wisdom of knowing when to strike. On the other hand, it could indicate a missed opportunity. Anything else I can do for you, sweetheart?" she asks, suggestively.
Gavrus selects a spot by a shady tree and settles in to watch and see if there is anyone suspicious was hanging around.
Putting the information together was like building a puzzle. Timerus thanked the young woman for the information thus far and said yes my dear, their is one more thing. Well two actually. The first is, I know among professions their is a general knowledge of competitors. This Zellara Boxley, what do you know of her? and the second I'm sure I can count on your discretion here? I am willing to pay one more gold for the information. The gold and the fact I am a Cleric of Abadar and would be a good friend to have if you or yours were to get injured or need help one in my profession could provide. That will keep your tongue from wagging yes? and just so we understand each other perfectly. I risk nothing ill if this information WAS to get out, however I really don't want or need the comments from my peers. So the favor of discretion is a want, not a need...and thats why no additional money, but a favor for future favors on my word as a servant of the Master of The First Vault
While Glimoril does a significantly better job at choosing a vantage from which to survey the scene, you and Gavrus spot each other.
Gavrus shortly spotted another person there, a female elf, who also appeared to be either staking the place out or watching for people to arrive. Gavrus couldn't let it be the latter. He shouldered his way off the wall against which he had been leaning and darted towards the elf, his hand gripping the greatclub as he swung it to point at her face.
"Did Lamm send you, eh?" Gavrus barked, his eyes narrowing at her, "Tell me where he is and I'll let you walk away." Gavrus could feel the rage bubbling inside him, desperate to get out.
Eleazar ended up booking a room either in the tavern or an inn local to it, as it was his intention to keep close watch of the drunkard Gavrus. It turned out that following Gavrus was not a difficult task. The man seemed to lack all notions of stealth, lumbering about the town like an elephant on parade (stealth 0).
Eleazar made no attempt to be stealthy himself. He deemed that for a man like himself, without the training or skills as subterfuge that Lamm and his ilk had, trying to attempt stealth would be a mistake. Instead he cloaked himself in his own mundane attire. He was merely one of many native sons of Korvosa traveling through the great city. He glanced Gavrus beneath a shady tree along Lancel street and kept on walking, letting his gaze drift across the buildings that made up Lancet street. He made no more note of 3 Lancel street than he did of 1 Lancet street or 5 Lancet street.
Since he was around an hour earlier than the card had indicated, he knew he could not just loiter around or he would become suspicious. He looked along Lancet street or it’s adjacent neighborhoods for a small eatery or café where he might get a bite to eat. Nervousness had caused his belly to tighten and roil, so he had skipped lunch – now his stomach seemed to settle a little, though it growled as his appetite returned.
Glimoril watched the big man take what he must have thought was a hiding place behind a tree not quite as big around as he was. She shook her head in dismay at his clumsiness, and then felt a sinking feeling as he turned his head and saw her. Dammit. But the sun was so warm on my back. There was no mistaking his purpose as he approached, with a club that probably outweighed her pointed at her. She drew her father's slender sword and hoped that a diplomatic approach would work.
"If I knew where he was, he'd be dead already, you great, ridiculous ox," she snapped. Diplomacy never was my strong suit, was it? "If you hadn't been so blind, stinking drunk at the tavern last night, you'd have seen that you weren't the only one to get a card."
Gavrus paused for a moment, the wind taken out of his sails. "You got a card too? Show it to me." Gavrus couldn't help but feel a little bit of elation at the news he wasn't the only one to receive a card as it meant that there was an increased chance this offer was real.
"Why would I bring it with me? Whoever sent it obviously knows who I am, and I can remember things like sunset at 3 Lancet Street for a whole day without having them written down. Now I'm going to go find out where that puss-sucking bucket of filth Lamm is. I'm sure you'll have a chance to prove your stupidity and kill me after." With that off her chest, Glimoril turns away from the big man and walks towards the house. Easy, girl. You let a man like that make you, it's not exactly his fault.
shortly before sunset Timerus made his way toward The Fortune Tellers house, all the while wondering how she must feel to have lost her son. Lamm had claimed another victim...and she had used her talents to find me. He swore to Abadar in his mind that he would help her gain vengeance, and in doing so put his own soul to rest.
He rounded the corner near her house and stopped to look around, spear in hand. Armed and armored
I believe that everyone is at the house now, except Eleazar, who went for a bite to eat. If anyone approaches the house, there is no sign of movement inside, but you can see through the large bay window that a fire flickers in the hearth. The front door is open...should anyone try it.
Glimoril opens the door, irritated with her own sloppiness but too proud to stop with the big man still behind her, and calls out, "Hello?"
Timerus see's the two by the door. One he thinks he recognizes as a shiver's addict that had killed her father and the other warrior much familiar with the insides of taverns if his look said anything. They had weapons drawn and were heading into Zellara's home. Well he wouldn't let her be killed by sell swords. He moved forward raasing his voice commanding them HALT! You will not be harming Zellara while I Timerus, Servant of the First Vault is around!
He stood about 50 feet away from the house in the street. spear at the ready. Chain shirt glistening in the setting sunlight beneath a brown travel tunic. A Brownish Grey cloak over his shoulders. In fact all was drab on him except the exceptionally shiny silver holy symbol which was out from under his collar easily touched.
Gavrus turns at the shout and gives the cleric a hard stare before raising his greatclub to point at him.
"I don't know who this Zellara is, little man, but I suggest that you leave us to our business. We're doing people like you a favour," Gavrus rumbles.
Again!?! Next time I receive a mysterious invitation, I'm sneaking in the back door. Glimoril turns and sees the priest. The one who had been part of Lamm's little gang, once, with his spear raised. He must have gotten a card too. I've heard he's been trying to stir up the guard to do something about Lamm for quite a while.
"Put your spear down, zealot. We're here to find out where your old friend Gaedren is hiding, same as you."
People Like me? You don't know a whit about people 'like' me drunkard. I grew up in these alley ways. Running from the law and serving that swine Lamm. Why if it wasn't for people like me, Id be as dead as Zellara's son. And you two are probably the ones who did it. Lamm stiff you payment? that why you're looking for him?! Come to finish the job you started?
He paused after Glimoril said her piece...same as me?....
He blinked at her and then at The drunkard with the club. He reached down and pulled out the card and held it up.....looking at them.
"It seems Lamm has more enemies than he counts on," Gavrus rumbles, showing his own card. Gavrus lowers his greatclub.
"You seem to know who lives here. What can you tell us?" he asks Timerus.
Timerus nods. It would seem so. well if you want to see Lamm feeding the fish, I'm in. He moves forward extending a hand to the big man who reeked of bars. Names Timerus. Cleric of Abadar. I was was one of Lamm's Lambs, and suffered greatly at his hands before the Church took me in and saved me from what he was making me. As for what I know. Im surprised you didn't research who might be here before coming. Im sure the thought of ambush crossed your mind?
He glanced at the two. The woman who lives here is names Zellara Boxley. A Varisian Harrow reader. Seems her son crossed Lamm and his head and hands were sent to her in a box. Im thinking she used her readings and connections to the Sczarni to find out where he might be and need people to go after him. After all A fortune Teller wouldn't have the strength of arms to do that. Since the incident she closed up shop and has apparently been laying low, since no one has seen her.
He put the card away and shifted the spear so the butt was on the ground and point up. You I know of A glance at Glimoril Didnt you sell your fathers life for shiver? Rumors have it you are an addict. Are you off it? Where's your card?
Glimoril looked at the priest for a long moment with cold hatred, and then she slid her sword in its sheath.
"Madame Zellara's. World-Famous Harrow Readings and Fortunes." She read from the sign that hung in front of the house. "Impressive research. Is that how you went from being Lamm's lamb to Abadar's sheep?"
"If I hear you bleating lies about my father again, sheep, I will kill you as soon as I've done with Lamm." She turned away from him and walked inside.
Eleazar finished his meal of butter soaked clams, a glass of house wine, and warm bread and once more made his way unobtrusively to 3 Lancet Street. He paused under the shadow strewn awning on a nearby building and whispered words of arcane power. "Kaló̱ emprós prostasía."
Feeling that the magic girding his defenses, forming a magical armor about his form, his confidence picked up as he continued the short distance to the front of the fortune teller's home. He was not surprised to see Gavrus still there, but he was a little shocked that the big man stood in open view just outside the seemingly empty home with an elf woman and shaking the hand of a priest of Abadar.
He was just another passerby on the street as he got closer, but overhearing Timerus's speech, he walked ever more near and continued to listen in. The words from Glimoril were harsh and he suddenly recognized her. A thief and a former Shiver addict, he wondered why she was here. Curiosity made his forget himself for a moment and he reached into his robes and pulled out the Harrow card with the lonely wanderer upon it. He quickly read over the words again, before slipping it away once more, though perhaps too slowly for either Gavrus or Timerus not to notice.
"Good Priest of the Gold-fisted, it would seem from your words that you too have come to seek justice against Gaedren Lamm. My name is Eleazar Cor. I received invitation to do the same. The man is a pox on this city and he needs to be stopped." He glanced with some suspicion toward Gavrus, but then decided to extend a little trust. "If we are all of the same mind, perhaps we should head inside and off the street? I believe our host is awaiting our arrival."
He knew that they had no reason to trust him, especially since he had clearly been eavesdropping, but despite the crossbow slung across his back and the brand new iron mace that hung from his belt, he still did not come across as particularly dangerous or threatening.
Gavrus looked at the newcomer balefully, but the card in his hand allayed his suspicions somewhat.
"Well, either this offer is true or Lamm has grossly overestimated his ability to kill us all," Gavrus said, "I'm Gavrus Mendelheim and Lamm killed my daughter and might as well have knotted the rope that took my wife's life as well. If this offer is true, I'll wring Lamm's scrawny neck with my bare hands."
Timerus was a little shocked at the Elf's biting response, however he nodded thinking well at least I reasonably sure she isn't a plant. If she were working for Lamm she'd have tried to fast talking there instead of being insulting. He took a step towards her as she turned starting Look Im sorry if that was harsh. I... and then the newcomer names Eleazar Cor came up. His body all a shimmer with some protective magicks.
well it appears Zellara is gathering quite the interesting group to take down Lamm Well met Eleazor Cor and Gavrus Mendelheim. We can agree we all would appear share a common bond, and a common invite as well. May the Master of Law bring justice to our foe. I agree Eleazar, let us hie inside.
with that he followed the Elf inside caught up in looking around he momentarily forgot his intention to explain his reaction...
Gavrus agrees with Timerus and Eleazar and heads into the house.
Glimoril hears the beginning of an apology from the priest as she walks into the house and sighs, but she doesn't stop. If these men want to kill Lamm, I should not be making enemies of them. We should be on the same side She frowns as the others come into the room.
"You. Priest. Your story was part right. I was addicted to shiver. Maybe if Abadar's priests hadn't been too busy counting coin when...." Same side! she reminded herself and stopped, scowling, but making herself push ahead. "Anyway. I was already hooked when Lamm found me. You know what he's like, so I won't tell you. When he thought he had killed me with an overdose, he dropped me down a hole in the vaults. I'm going to kill him before I go to find the man who murdered my father."
"I am Glimoril," she says. "If any of you wish to see Gaedren Lamm dead, then I consider you allies."
He nodded at the Elf. I understand how rumors can be spread. I believe you when you say you didnt kill your father. When we have finished with Lamm, if youd like assistance finding the murderer, perhaps I can assist. Call it my way of redemption for the church not being there for you as it was me.
He smiled. Then glanced around the room In the mean time though, lets put those skilled eyes of yours to work finding out what we can of where I hostess is