The cozy chamber within the small home is filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice. The haze comes from several sticks of incense in wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly-winged elves. The smoke itself seems to soften edges and give the room a dream-like feel. The walls are draped with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black-skulled beast juggling human hearts, another showing a pair of angels dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on the far wall depicts a tall, hooded figure shrouded in mists, a flaming sword held in its skeletal hand. Several brightly-colored rugs cover the floor, but the room's only furnishings are a wooden table covered by a bright red throwcloth and several elegant tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by a blue cloth sits under the table.
Upon the table, weighed down by a small stone paperweight, you find a note written in whispy letters that are becoming familiar by now:
Thank you for coming. I had to step out for just a bit, but shall return shortly. Please, have a seat while you wait. The basket under the table contains bread and drink for you.
Eleazar Cor blinked at the words from the man he merely assumed was a failed guard and a drunkard. While it was true that Lamm had done great harm to Eleazar's future, he got off light when he considered what the villain had done to Gavrus. Eleazar had not intended to kill Lamm, merely stop him, but now hearing Gavrus he confirmed the worst about Lamm and rekindled his hatred for the man. If Gavrus wanted to ring the man's neck, Eleazar wouldn't stop him.
Upon entering the home, Eleazar suppressed a shiver when he looked at the tapestries hanging on the walls. They weren't exactly uplifting. Pulling the note out from under the stone, he read it over and turned back to the other three who had been invited.
"It seems that our host stepped out. This note indicates she will return shortly and that we should sit and wait." Doubt and suspicion crept into his voice, but he did as the note instructed and sat down in one of the chairs.
Timerus move from painting to painting studying the grim artwork. trying to discern what he could about their hostess by her choice of adornments.
well Im not fond of Zellara's choice of art. But being a fortune teller, a good portion of her profession is perception, so I can see why she would choose such.
Gavrus sits, snorting in derision at the paintings on the wall. He'd never been one for Harrowings. Reading the note, he leans under the table and pulls up the bread and drink, tearing off some of the bread to chew while he sized up the others in the room.
The drink is a plain wine - not enough to go on about, but better than most served at seedy taverns.
Gavrus looks at the assembled party and slow realisation dawns on him.
"I know of all of you," he states matter-of-factly. "You two have been wronged by Lamm, so the streets say." He nods at Glimoril and Eleazar.
"I guess he's done that to you too, given you stated that you used to be a Lamb," he continues, nodding at Timerus. "Perhaps this offer is legitimate. Perhaps we can finally rid the world of that speck of s*#!."
Gavrus lets silence fill the room for a minute before continuing. "I imagine that if I've heard of you, then you might have heard of me. Let me clear up any rumours you've heard. I used to be a sergeant of the guard, well-to-do with a loving family and promising career. Then I went after Lamm. I even managed to shut down a couple of his operations, including a shiver factory, before he kidnapped my daughter and killed her. I couldn't prove it was him, of course, but I knew in my bones that it was. I spent a couple of weeks chasing him, came damned close too, but then my wife hanged herself, unable as she was to come to terms with the grief. After that, I lost my drive. I sold our townhouse and moved into that hovel of a tavern I live in now, where I piss my life away. Until now. If what this Zellara woman says is true, then I'm going to send Lamm to the Boneyard with his skull bashed in. I'll wring his scrawny neck with my bare hands and watch as his eyes pop out. Fifteen years he's taken from me, so I'll take his life."
"I apologize, Gavrus." Eleazar said after the big man had spoken. I must admit..."He paused a moment and cleared his throat. "I merely assumed the rumors that drink was the chink in your armor that led to the state you live in now. I was clearly mistaken. If our as of yet unrevealed host can truly provide us the means for dealing with Lamm, I will assist you all any way I can. Lamm has done too much harm to this city as it is. By extirpating him, we will not only prevent his future infection of the city, but also free those already ensnared by him."
Eleazar shifted in his seat and removed his scholars cap. The fingers of his other hand fiddled along the leather wrapped handle of the mace hanging from his belt. A good eye could plainly see the weapon had never really been used and looked almost as if it had come straight from the forge.
"I'm not sure how much aid I can provide... I was never able to complete my education, though I do know a few tricks which could be helpful."
Walking around the room Timerus turns as Gavrus tells his tale. He nods. just so. My father was a fisher across the way in Trails End. Mother was a Chelaxian woman, daughter to a well to do merchant. My mothers Family turned their back on her when she married an Ulfen commoner. But mom and dad were happy, or so I remember. Unfortunately, my father died in a storm. Mother tried her best to support me, but life is hard. She turned to the Szcarni and I can only guess what she did to make ends meet. It wasn't until her debt became too much that I ended up in Gaedrans hands, sold into slavery. I have come to terms with her belief that she was doing the right thing, hoping I would have a better life....As One of his Lambs, I comited my share of crimes...and had a great many evils performed upon myself as well.
A shudder went through his light frame.
The memories serve to steel my resolve that no child undergo this again.
He turned and looked at the three in the room. You have my word, as Abadar as my witness, if this is so. Lamm will not draw another breath as long as I do
After hearing the other's stories, Glimoril sits in silence for a short time. She has told her tale in its essence, and despite an appalling start, she and the three others seem to have reached the conclusion that they have a common goal.
"There's plenty in this city that deserve the knife," she said. "Despite my words outside, I think none of them are in this room. Gaedren Lamm has broken us all, in one way or another, and you know how he is. He always makes sure he gets what's owed him, one way or another."
"My father was killed on the road outside Korvosa, by a man he hurt defending me. He was my world," she said. "I tell you this not for your pity, but so that you will understand why I was addicted to shiver, and why you needn't fear me falling back into those old ways. I took the drug to numb myself and accepted every disgrace that the dealers heaped on me, because I thought I had caused his death.
"A few months ago, Gaedren Lamm gave me a shot that nearly killed me," she said, and paused, a chill running down her spine. "He dropped me in the vaults, and I spent ... a week? two weeks? lost in the dark, crawling because the sickness had me at first, and then because I was too weak to walk. I saw terrible things and suffered misery you can't imagine unless you've given up shiver. At the end, my father's spirit came to me. He forgave me, and showed me the way out. He told me I must purge the world of Lamm before I pursue his killer."
After a moment's silence, a handsome, middle-aged Varisian woman enters the room. She smiles at each of you in a friendly, though slightly forced manner. She takes a seat at the table and begins to speak, pulling a Harrow deck out of a pocket and shuffling it absent-mindedly, though with obvious skill.
"Thank you for coming, my friends, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you. I have reason to remain hidden, you see - a terrible man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This is a man you know, for he has done something terrible to each of you as well. I speak, of course, of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched only by his gift for avoiding reprisal. You see, several months ago, his thieves stole this, my Harrow deck, from me. It is dear to me, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, and also my sole means of support. When pickpockets stole it, my son, Eran, tracked them down. The thieves were in the employ of Gaedren Lamm, and as a reward for finding them, Gaedren brutally murdered my son.
"I sought help from the Guard, but they turned me away, claiming that they knew he was trouble, but that he wasn't exactly a 'big fish at the moment.' And so I asked around. I paid bribes. I consulted my Harrow deck for advice. And recently I was rewarded - I found out where Lamm is hiding out. He can be found at an old fishery not far north of here at Westpier 17, where he trains his abducted children to be pickpockets and counts his stolen treasures.
"And now I need your help. I cannot hope to face this man on my own, and I am quite confident that Lamm has informants in the Guard. If I were to go to them, he would surely be tipped off and escape his fate yet again. Even if they did arrest him, what guarantee would I have that he would be punished? The criminal has evaded the law for decades. But you know of these frustrations as well, for word on the street is that he has wronged each of you, too. So...there we are. It is time for Gaedren Lamm to pay for his evil ways."
Upon finishing, Zellara, now slightly emotional, looks to each of you with desperate pleading in her wet eyes.
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Eleazar Cor sat back and listened to the tale. It did not sound all that much different from what had happened to Gavrus and Eleazar knew from his own experience that murder was one of the tools Gaedren Lamm would employ. The man was vicious, hateful, and did not forget slights.
"I am sorry for your loss Zellara. Your son sounds like he was a devoted young man. I would be willing to help you get ... justice, but I must ask, how did you recover your Harrow Deck? It was stolen, was it not?" He tried to broach the subject as gently as he could.
It was not that he did not believe Zellara, but he was wary and a little suspicious. Was it not possible that she was an agent of Gaedren's seeking to lure them all into a trap? Removing individuals as determined as themselves made sense in a sick sort of way. Eleazar felt his stomach turned as he tried to get into the twisted mindset of a man like Gaedren Lamm.
Zellara fixes Eleazar with a curious gaze for a moment before answering, "It was indeed taken from me. I was reunited with my deck when I discovered Lamm's lair. It was by its power that I found each of you. I am pleased that you will help me, Eleazar. My Eran would be grateful, too."
Gavrus narrowed his eyes when she mentioned informants in the Guard, but then it had been years since he'd been part of them. Perhaps things had degraded to that point.
"I'm in," Gavrus said simply, standing and grasping his greatclub. "We hit him tonight, before he can move. We'll put his devious ways to an end, Zellara."
Seeing Gavrus' look when Zellara mentioned corrupt guards, Timerus nodded at the fortune teller. I have experienced much the same. Twice I had information that placed Gaedran where the guards could capture him. twice I was stalled in the courts. Twice by the time the guards finally went to gather him up, he was gone. Smirks and grins from guardsmen were all I had to show for coin and sweat. We cannot trust the authorities, for Gaedran has greased palms well. And not only Gaedran but anyone else connected to Boule's Guild of ne'er do wells. Only The Hellknights are above that corruption, and they would just as soon take us in for even discussing vigilante justice.
He moved to stand with Eleazor and Gavrus.
I too am in. Share his location and trust us to handle him and find justice for Eran's soul
Seeing the others stand together, Glimoril rises from her seat and nods to the fortune teller. She moves to stand with the others, a fierce smile on her face at the thought of finally cleansing the world of the stain that is Gaedren Lamm.
"Do not mind the talk of corruption," she says to Gavrus."The life I have lived has set me against the law, but not all who enforce it are tainted. Just as not all who oppose it are malicious. Each of us must account for our own actions in the end."
"Westpier 17, tonight," she says with grim anticipation. "If Lamm dies, I am satisfied."
Relief and then gratitude wash over Zellara's face. "Thank you, my friends. May the gods go with you, for I cannot. I would be of no further help to you on this errand. The only help I can offer is a Harrow reading before you go. I will consult the cards and glimpse what fate may hold for each of you, if you so wish. If not, then good luck. If you are successful then, please, bring me word that I may be at peace. If I do not hear from you then I will plead with Pharasma to reward you greatly in the next life."
Eleazar considered the offer for a moment. There were some who said that glimpsing into the future with prophecy was a dangerous act, that knowing doomed you in some way. However, Eleazar fancied himself a student of the arcane and divination was a part of the trade in which he wished to be versed. With a nod and a faint smile, he set one hand down on the table.
"I would have you perform a harrow reading for me. Perhaps it will give me some insight into what to suspect this evening." He had his doubts about the potency of the harrow deck, but there was always a possibility. Besides, it would give the woman a chance to feel helpful and further contribute to the endeavor of justice and revenge they were to embark upon.
Milady, with your skill with your deck being the reason we are together and we have the tip of where Lamm is, It might be a good idea to find out what it says is in store...
Timerus moved beside Eleazor to receive his reading as well.
Zellara nods to both Eleazar and Timerus. "Very well. Gavrus, Glimoril, will you be drawing, too?"
Zellara gets no answer from Glimoril and Gavrus. "Very well. Let us begin." She shuffles the deck deftly and then spreads it flawlessly on the table before Eleazar and Timerus, indicated that they should choose a single card.
Eleazar draws a card depicting a white wave swallowing a mountainside village. "The Avalanche. I'm afraid this is not good news, Eleazar. There will be an unrelenting, unthinking disaster for you in the near future. This is not an evil of man, but a cold, unfeeling force for devastation. Perhaps some natural disaster or plague. Gods watch over you when this comes, my friend."
Next, Timerus draws a card with a king sitting upon his throne, only his throne rests upon the backs of a number of simple-looking people below. "The Tyrant, Timerus. Oh, dear. A paternal influence in your life will bring you some pain. Are you close to your father? Is there a man, a mentor of some kind, with whom you share a close relationship? Guard your heart to this person, though it may not even be an intentional hurt.
"Dear friends, it pains me to be the bearer of bad news, but I am only a medium. Fortunately, I do not see how any of this could have an effect on your mission tonight. I wish you all of the luck in Korvosa. Lamm is a foul creature and he shall meet his justice tonight. Please, don't forget to bring me word when the deed is done."
Eleazar was taken aback when she explained the portent of the card. As he expected, her warning was vague and undetailed. Divination, especially into future events he knew was never very precise and it required great skill to accurate interpret the signs.
He tried to dismiss the warning as merely the false reading of a varisian charlatan, but something in his gut roiled and told him that this women was no fraud. He paled a little and stood up.
He looked to Timerus. It would serve him well to keep the Priest near. Afterall, the church was the best place to turn when plague or natural disaster befell a region.
"I am not sure how to guard myself against such a thing. I must put this out of my mind." He said quietly to no one in particular, his eyes going to the morbid tapestries once more.
He sat staring down at the card Zellara had indicated. He thought of his Mentor at the Church, Minthalus, and the words the seer had uttered. He hoped his actions wouldn't cause his friend pain, or cause a rift to form between them. But Lamm had to be stopped. He couldn't let the work wiggle free again. Too many lives had been forever altered by the scoundrels deeds. Justice must be served.
Your words touch me Seer. But I will not be deterred What say you all? shall we go to the wharf?
Eleazar nodded his consent, but his gaze drifted to the other two of his companions. He could not blame them for not wanting to have the woman perform the harrow on them, at least not after seeing the results of himself and Timerus, but their silence concerned him. Were they having second thoughts?
"I am ready to leave." Eleazar said as confidently as he could.
"Slow down, Cor... Let us all have a turn, will ya? Sorry, my dear, but I would love to have one of those Harrow readings," the slender half elf muttered, his mouth still full of food and drink, slightly spilling forth as he speaks.
"But rest assured, Sweetie, I'm all in for getting to that bastard, Lamm, whether my cards read good, bad, or ugly."
Callie sat quietly, taking in the scenario. It almost seemed too convenient, to find so many potential allies against Gaedren so quickly. But she figured the fortune teller was as likely to have merely heard through the rumor mill that Callie had been looking for such allies, than to be discovered by a Harrow deck. She knew all too many street performers who were better at reading a person's face than the web of fate, but more than good at presenting one for the other.
But opportunity presented itself, and she might stay wary a bit, but these folk certainly all seemed earnest in fighting Lamm, and she was sure, indeed, he had no shortage of enemies. Perhaps it was not "too" convenient after all.
She flashed a smile, her performer's smile. "I know all too well how Lamm has taken advantage of many, so yes, let's pool our resources and see what we can do about this bastard, before another victim falls to him." She points to herself. "I was lucky in that what he did to me, I lost only myself. The journey of finding again is long, but rewarding, I think in the end. And sure, fortuneteller, read the cards for me. Tell me how I may come to this reward. I accept it may be through pain and fire."
"Very well, Crain, Callie, please draw."
Crain slaps his hand down on the spread of cards and pulls one out, sending its neighboring cards askew. It bears the image of a grave-looking man lying in a bed, covers up to his neck, with a nursemaid holding a rag to his forehead. Zellara looks up into Crain's eyes solemnly. "The Sickness. Crain, some disease of the body or the mind holds you in its thrall. Whether you find a cure for this disease or or embrace it, adding its power to your own, will be up to you. But remember that no choice is without its consequences."[b]
Next, she turns to Callie and nods to her. Callie reaches out with a precise hand and selects a card from the spread. The card depicts a battered, but proud man standing tall with a host of perils in the background. [b]"Ah, Callie, The Survivor. I had a feeling this might be the card that chose you. You have become reborn through a great ordeal. With this rebirth, you will now have the opportunity to shape your life as you choose. You may be whatever you wish. Choose well, dear.
"There you have it. The Fates have shared with you a glimpse of their vision. This information is personal and sacred to you. Internalize it and its true application for you shall become clear eventually. Now go. I have nothing left to offer but my wishes and my prayers. My Eran will be avenged tonight and an agent of evil will meet his end. Gods speed."
"Well, that's a pretty good parlor trick, Sweetheart. The Sickness, eh? Not bad at all," the man snorts. Being in my cups isn't what I'd reckon as a disease. She'd have known that, just be keeping up on town gossip, I suppose.
Putting the results out of his mind, Crain gets to his feet. "Welp, I'm ready to get out of here. I've owed Lamm his reckoning for a good while now. I don't want to wait any longer. After we've dealt with the bastard, we'll report back in with you."
Callie gives a nod and a slight smile. "Well done, Mistress Zellara. You are indeed a master of your trade. And yes, let's go. Doubtless this lead on Lamm will last long." She stands, one hand on her the hilt of her sword.
"As to this fishery--what's the best approach? Direct? Any back routes? Can we hire a boat to get to it from the water?"
"Don't know about you, Sugar, but I've always been a kick-the-door-in-guy myself. Like you said, times wasting. If we are going to get the scoundrel, let's strike while the iron is hot."
Callie just smirks. "Sure thing, Puff Pastry." She looks to the priest and the sorcerer. "What say you, gentlemen?"
"I like your spark, pretty lady. Give me two seconds, and I'll be ready," the warrior asks, as he takes a large jug of ale from his back, and fills up a tankard. "No reason to travel on an empty stomach, you know. Anyone else want a pull?"
Im not much for sneaking in back doors either Crain. Lets get the bastard before he slinks away into one of his other bolt holes, or some guard on the payroll tips him that we have gathered.
Grabbing up his spear Timerus heads for the door pausing to look back. a motley crew if ever he saw one, but just maybe they'd have the strength to take the mission to its end.
Crain slaps the holy man on his back. "Now there's a fella I think I like. Let's go roust the bastard. Might even have to to go out to celebrate after, if we hurry."
You all bid Zellara good night and make your way north along the road toward Westpier 17. It's a warm, clear night with a cool breeze blowing in from the bay to the west. The waning moon still casts enough light to move about with ease. There is no sign of life in the sleeping city's streets except for the occasional flash of movement in the corner of your eye as an imp or a pseudodragon darts out of sight - the tiny creatures are always active in the spring time.
As you approach Westpier 17, surprisingly only a few block from Zellara's home, the reek of brine and the stink of week-dead fish become chokingly thick in the air. You arrive at the weathered, tired-looking building with a fading 17 painted above a set of double doors to find it dark and quiet. A rickety walkway runs along the south side of the building above a shoreline cliff about 10' above the black waters of the Jeggare River below. It appears that the walkway leads to a fishing boat docked behind the fishery. Stuck to the north side of the building is a loading dock with another set of double doors and a small stairway that drops down to another door a few feet below ground level.
Crain stows his goblet after draining the contents in one long pull. With a quick movement, he grabbed his flail in his right hand. "Any of you lot able to pick a lock? I could always just bash the door open as well, I suppose."
Callie shakes her head, but before she answers, she decides to check to see if the door is locked first.
She also peers carefully through one of the windows to see if she can see anyone within. She tries to stay low and avoid notice.
The door handle turns easily, and as Callie gives it a soft, slow pull it swings out a few inches before stopping fast. The tinkling of metal from inside indicates that the doors are chained. Just a moment after the doors stop swinging open, a heavy mass slams into them, causing the old wood to creak, and a deafening howl from a large dog rips apart the silence of the night. The muzzle of a large hound can be seen snapping at the 6-inch gap between the doors.
"Can any of you shut that hound up? I'm not a fan of killing animals, but I'll spear him throuh, if necessary."
Callie swallows a rather colorful curse, as she hadn't meant to disturb the door so obviously, and internally chides herself for her clumsiness. She swings toward Crain, finger to her lips to urge him to be quiet.
She then turns back toward the half-open, chained door, and claps her hands on her knees softly but rhythmically, as she cajoles the dog in low, smooth, tones, "Shhh, who's a good boy? Nice doggie, nice doggie, listen to Auntie Callie and you'll get a treat...
She goes on in this way, trying to catch the dog's attention and good favor. It wasn't her best speech ever given, but one had to tailor to one's audience.
Will save
The dog continues snapping, barking, and throwing itself against the chained doors.
whispering to his allies as he stands beside the Callie to the left of the doors Timerus says No. I did not pray for anything from Abadar that would quiet a barking dog. Eleazor?
The cleric said shifting the spear in his hands.
"I may have something to remedy this racket, Father Timerus."
Eleazar stepped forward at the suggestion from Timerus. He looked the large guard dog directly in the eyes and whispered a incantation almost soothingly.
"Variá variá ta mátia kai ta ákra , líthargo." With those words and a pinch of sand he stretched his will over the arcane boundries of the world and sought to put the hound to sleep, focusing the burst of the spell so that it stretched backward into the chamber as well, putting the hound at the edge of its radius.
Will save vs sleep:
The dog swoons briefly and his head droops...and then snaps back up and he resumes his frenzied barking.