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Korvosa; a once prosperous city fallen on difficult times. Founded by Chelish colonists on land once possessed by Shoanti tribes, the city had grown and prospered through hard times, surviving many hardships, up to and including the fall of the Chelish empire.
For several years, however, the city has fallen on hard times. Under the rule of Eodred II, the Saffron King, or, as the lower classes colloquially know him, the Stirge King, the city’s coffers are being bled dry by His Majesty’s spendthrift ways, not to mention the young concubine of a queen he married a little under a year ago, abandoning his once quite-populated harem in her favor. The citizens are worried for their family and businesses, but refuse to abandon hope.
Still, with every passing day, the slums expand, merchants close shop, and the criminal element grows stronger. The guard is stretched far too thin, and can no longer help everyone.
Korvosa is a worried city, but not one devoid of light and smiles. The townsfolk want to see their town rise anew.
For several months now, King Eodred has been showing signs of ever-worsening illness, and his condition is only worsening. There are those amongst the city who keep hope that the king will recover, those who expect the old man to croak at last, leaving the beautiful young queen to take his place, and, naturally, those who speak rumors of plots and conspiracies.
The king does, after all, occupy the Crimson Throne. Few rulers have led the town for a long time, and fewer have brought forth heirs to take leadership in turn. Once again, the rumor mills whisper of the Saffron King becoming the next victim.
CHAPTER ONE-EDGE OF ANARCHY
Oathday, 7 Pharast, 4708 AR
It is another chilly Pharast day in the city of Korvosa, with the evening fog ominously blanketing the Jeggare River. Another mundane day has passed for most Korvosans, and yet, the mood across the city is one of sadness, apprehension, and in some cases, grim satisfaction. King Eodred Aribasti II, called the Stirge King by some of the most downtrodden citizens, seems to be on death’s door. But while the most and least wealthy in the city prepare for his imminent death, the vast majority have ordinary thoughts on their minds. For six Korvosans though, none of this will soon matter. As the full Rebirth Moon rises across the city and casts dark shadows on its cobblestone streets, circumstances are playing out that will soon thrust these heroes right into the middle of Golorian history...circumstances that will change them forever.
She lifted her dark hood higher, both as a barrier to the chill coming off the fog spread across the Jeggare River, and, as a normal, nervous gesture.
Her boots made a dull sound on the cobblestones as she made her way forward to The Tasty Troll. She had perfected a particular manner of walk -- spine straight and steady, even gait. As a carefree child she had either rushed wildly or plodded slowly, much to her family's vexation. But ever since the day she had found Marco's body, something inside her tightened and grew mechanical/rehearsed. If one kept an even stride, one would not draw unnecessary attention. And that was a boon.
Emilia's mind was influx. She and Garvid only had a passing acquaintance, yet this meeting would be the start of a serious alliance. At least she hoped it would be.
The tavern was not far from the docks and she enjoyed walking, or observing her surrounds while walking. The establishment was not where the well-mannered, respectable folk took shelter in to satisfy their thirst and other habits/inclinations. But she didn't need those kind of establishments. Emilia had discovered that Lamm liked to gamble and had visited this tavern two times over the past week.
As she drew closer, Emilia heard laughter coming from behind the door, so there were patrons already present and that was good. She would enter and study each person, hoping to catch a glimpse (or more than one) of Lamm. She hadn't laughed like that in a long time and the resentment she kept reined in suddenly reared its head for a brief moment. She quashed it and reached for the latch and entered The Tasty Troll.
Her eyes adjusted to the interior. She caught sight of the barkeep, Sam McGinnis. He's the one who caters to Lamm. I wonder how deeply he is involved with the criminal and his Lambs. Is it out of fear or for profit? She fixed a meek smile, pushed back her hood a little (so her face could be seen) and moved toward one of the unoccupied tables and took a seat, hands pressed on the wooden surface before her.
As Em enters the tavern, her senses are immediately bombarded by the stench of body odor and the smell of tobacco smoke. Her eyes burn as they adjust to the unnatural fog.
As she tilts her hood back a bit, two men turn around at a table where they are playing cards and stare at the lass. One of them whistles as the other calls out crudely, "Hey honey...Come over here and sit on mi lap. I bet you're full of good luck." He turns back around and plays a card.
A few seconds later, a raven haired lady walks over to your table. Though her eyes look young, her skin and teeth look as though she has aged rather poorly. She scratches her arms as she looks around nervously. Sheepishly, she addresses you "Good evening. I am Lily. Would you like food tonight or will you just be drinking? You are going to be joined by a male partner soon I hope.." She turns and looks back at the table of gamblers.
You do not notice anything out of the ordinary at this time.
The lady by the hearth is a relatively known lyrist and singer, Dinah Lester. It is odd she is in a place like this.
Orcsson was still hungover from the debauchery he had engaged in the night before. Tonight he planned to hit a less popular dive near the docks, The Tasty Troll. Upon entering, he immediately makes a beeline for a table where two men are playing cards. After pulling out some cash and placing it on the table, the men offer him a seat.
After about a hour of cards, a hooded figure enters the tavern. She is cloaked in a floor length black robe with a hood. She tilts her hood back a bit and then heads for a nearby table. One of the men at your table whistles as the other calls out crudely "Hey honey...Come over here and sit on mi lap. I bet you're full of good luck." He turns back to the table and throws down a seven of crowns.
Silvo darts around a corner, glancing behind him. Good, still got time. He slows and checks the street. Almost there. He walks down the street, trying to move swiftly, but not panicking. Silvio finds the old boarding house and quickly steps inside and own to the basement. He stops outside the door, trying to steady his nerves. He takes a deep breath and knocks politely.
*Knock, knock*
”Marial, are you in there?” he whispers. It had been over a month since he had seen her, but she had to be here. After what Teron had told him, she might be the only one who could help. He clutches his bag. Did I make the right choice? Should I go back to the lab and keep working? A sudden thought crosses his mind. Sasha. Oh, no. What will they do to her?
He shakes his head. What choice did I have? Was it really a choice at all? Teron had let him go, but that didn’t mean his life was free. If Teron really had learned to embrace the work for Lamm...What more was there? Teron had Maretha, but he didn’t have him. I can still make my own choices. And this is it.
”Marial, please. Open the door.”
At the knock on her door, Marial looks up suddenly from her book and instinctively grabs for the small, heatless tongue of flame orbiting her head, jamming it into a pocket. Wait, I know that voice...
I already told you, Silvio. Teron tried to kill me. You may not believe me, but I got the scars to prove it. There's no way in hell I'm goin' back to Teron or that a~+~&@~ Lamm, and nothin' you say -
She pulls open the door and takes in Silvio's expression - the worry and fear barely concealed in his eyes, the tension in his grip on his satchel, the glances over his shoulder. What's wrong? What is it?
The Bucktoothed one in the hat, who made the statement, looks at Orcsson with a puzzled expression. "You sayin that I can't get with that boy?" He nudges the other guy with the red hair and the lazy left eye, "We leave a lil befer her and catch that las in a dark alley..." The two get a good laugh and continue to play cards.
As the night has progressed, the man with the lazy eye, known as Sam, has started to lose his ass. Orcsson continues to break even and the one with the hat, known as Tom, comes out on top.
After a few minutes, Sam looks around frustrated: "Whare the hell is Lamm? I could win mi money back if that bastard would show up!" Tom gives a teethy grin and shrugs his shoulders. He then deals the cards and looks at Orcsson: "So what's yer story fella? You lookin fer some business?"
She was not surprised by the gamblers' crude conduct. Being an agent of the gods did not entitle her to any respect in the minds of such men. Her cool, dark eyes took their measure and silently dismissed them. There was no use engaging them in dialogue -- it would only encourage them to be bolder with their already loose tongues.
The raven haired lass named Lily seemed concerned for her well-being, or at least it seemed so. The priestess responded in her usual low, throaty voice,
"Good evening, Lily. My companion should be arriving soon. I will have some water, while I wait, and once he is settled we shall order food. What is the cook serving up tonight?"
Emilia gave the scratching, young woman a cordial smile as she waited for the answer before continuing in a seemingly casual manner,
"Excuse me, Lily, but is not that lady by the hearth the talented Mistress Dinah Lester? Can we expect a performance this evening? I was not aware that she sang in this establishment."
"Ah, the old 'hit with a stick' method of seduction. Can't say I'm a fan, but then again I've never been so repulsive I've needed it. Besides, you're both taking a risk. For all you know under that robe she's got another six arms and more swords than the local blacksmith's."
The mention of Lamm gets him to raise an eyebrow. Wish he was having this much luck with the cards.
"Business? Was just popping in for a game and some witty banter, " And all I found was a game, "But I could be interested. What kind of product is he selling?"
A look of relief washes over Silvio's face as the door opens. He pushes past her into the small room wiping his suddenly damp eyes. "I believe you, Marial. I have to. Teron all but admitted it to me just now." He takes a deep breath, leaning up against the wall for support.
He looks at Mouse. Marail. He knew her as Marial despite the nickname she kept now. "I swapped jobs with Kendrick today. I needed to get out of the lab. I had heard we were having delivery problems in the area east of the docks. Normally, I don't even want to know things like that, but that was one of my old routes. I thought it might be nice to see the old sights." He shakes his head and take another deep breath.
"I found Julius, the delivery Lamb. It wasn't hard. People knew what was going on. Turns out he was stashing part of the product, trying to save up to make a run for it. Stupid kid. He thought no one would notice. I was there, trying to talk some sense into him when Teron showed up." He takes another breath, ragged this time.
"We had words. He called me an idiot for coming there, but that now was the time. Said something about the wool over my eyes. He killed him, Marial! He killed Julius! Stuck a knife right in his gut and then through his eye! And he liked it! I know him. He liked it."
"Calcedon." A deeper female voice jars the famous violinist from his thoughts. He had been entranced for a moment by an incredible painting of a Hell Knight signing a contract before an agent of Asmodeus. Calcedon turns to see a beautiful young lady dressed in ceremonial, crimson plate armor with hair as dark as night. A large sword is strapped to her side.
Picture of the heavily armored lady
"The Queen requests your presence in the back room."
You had looked forward to this event for weeks, Madame Volastra's exibit at the Stengil Gallery in Midland. You could have never imagined an actual audience with the Queen though.
The lady is Sabina Merrin, Queen Ileosa's handmaiden and bodyguard.
It is rumored that Sabina is passionate about her job to protect the Queen. Some think this passion borders on worship.
Tom laughs at Orcsson's response: "A sap works much better. Sticks leave marks." It is pretty clear that the man is not getting your sarcasm.
As Orcsson continues, the man leans in: "Shiver mi friend...Asmodeus' venom...Dream Spider Candy." He pulls out a small vial filled with white powder and shows it to the Half Orc. "10 gold for a 16th of an ounce. Lamm usually uses snotty nosed lambs to deliver it fer him, but we could always use a man like you to scout out some new customers."
"Good evening, Lily. My companion should be arriving soon. I will have some water, while I wait, and once he is settled we shall order food. What is the cook serving up tonight?"
Lily relaxes a bit at Em's tone or it may be from the news that she is meeting a male companion. As she continues to scratch her arms, she leans in and whispers: "The bangers and mash are about the only thing edible in here and I would suggest wine...the water ain't the cleanest. I have a full menu if'n you would like one." She smiles tight lipped at you, probably embarrassed by her rotten teeth.
"Excuse me, Lily, but is not that lady by the hearth the talented Mistress Dinah Lester? Can we expect a performance this evening? I was not aware that she sang in this establishment."
Lily looks over at the hearth. "I've never seen that lady before in mi life. The only reason a lady like her would be here is to meet Lamm. He's probably done somethin' awful to her or her family and she is here to beg fer mercy."
Calcedon shifted his weight as he focused on the painting. He could see the desperation in the eyes of the hellknight. There were many reasons to join an order, and he couldn't quite make out the order symbol, but that was most likely on purpose. It was a desperation he knew all to well. Madame Volastra's taste in art was exquisite as usual and there were quite a few high ranking nobility in this place.
He was surprised to see the Queen's handmaiden, and slightly more surprised to hear her call his name. He'd played for the king before, but not the queen. He hadn't regained his full skill with his opposite hand as of yet, and the most discerning of critics knew it well enough. He still might be the best in the city, but unfortunately he had a fair amount of performances to go in order to meet his ambition.
"Good evening Sabina," he began with a slight bow of courtesy, "I'll not keep her majesty waiting."
Wish I was surprised. But that's what Lamm does to kids - hell, he tried with me. Remember Emmy, little halfling kid he was trainin' as a cutpurse? Not thirty pounds soaking wet, still sucked her thumb when she thought no one saw, and Lamm wanted me to knock her round 'cause she kept back a few lousy silvers to get a decent doll, 'stead of that little rag thing she carried.
Gods, Sil, how do you stand it? How can you stay with that bastard? Emmy was the last straw - I couldn't be like that. She pauses for a moment.
I never thought that Teron could be-
And at that, the tears she had managed to hold at bay begin to trail down her cheeks.
"Oh right, drugs. Of course. And the delivery service uses... baby sheep?" A slightly confused Manius played his next card as he wondered how insulted he should be by the job offer. "Sounds great, friend, but I think I'd like to meet the boss man first."
I'm probably running late... Next time they got a bloody argument, I'm letting them break the damn place over...
Garvid opens the door to the tavern, wincing at the pain in his arm, and look around the dodgy place. Smells like a lovely place. Sighing, he notices Emilia still being there, chatting away to the waitress. Nice choice for a table, hard to eavesdrop from there. Garvid stares back at the bartender, leaving his halberd with a clanging sound in the corner, away from immediate grasp but still fully within his reach.
Sitting down on the table, placing his injured hand in front of him, he looks at the two women talking, greeting the one in the cowl. "Hello there, sister. Sorry I'm late. Sugar, could you give me two cold flagons of ale and some grub?", he smiles at the waitress.
Full black garb? Literally the best attire to wear if you want to draw attention to yourself these days. She's a Pharasman, though...
"So, this is the nice place you were talking about, huh? Seen our good friend yet?", asks Garvid as Lily departs. Looking over at the other tables once more, he begins profiling the faces.
Waitress, probably a druggie. Doesn't look too nasty, though. Bard at the corner seems way too overdressed for this place. And way too decent. The bartender looks way too happy about something, and I'm not sure I want to know what. Lone guy, drinking at the bar, mean face. Probably an enforcer or someone here to make a deal, depends on whether that's his first drink. Gamblers. Hah, the half-orc seems the most educated and smart one of the bunch. Don't see that every day. A lot of faces are unusual for a dig like this one.
"Sounds great, friend, but I think I'd like to meet the boss man first."
"Well...You be in luck. He'll be here any time to squeeze that fancy dressed lass by the hearth. Word is he snatched her son. If'n she pays up, maybe she'll get to take the brat home tonight." The man in the hat chuckles. The other corrects Tom though. "As if there is a chance at that." He then looks at the lady in black. "You think he's squeezing her too. Im'a be pissed if we ain't in on that action."
"Salt of the earth here, am I right?", whispers Garvid, smiling at Em. "Hope you aren't too bothered by comments like that, sister, because in those places they happen to every girl that's younger than 80." The half-orc doesn't seem like he belongs in this place one bit. He could be here for the same reason as us? Seems like the bardess is... We might be able to make a decent team by the end of the night if we're lucky. Ah, hell, it beats patrolling the docks every other night...
Lowering his voice further, he leans over to the sister and whispers, "So, what's your expectation for the night? Just listen, or shall we take it to the next step. I got the long arm of the law over there by the corner if needs be."
"Sugar, could you give me two cold flagons of ale and some grub?"
Lily's demeanor changes. Em notices her withdraw a bit (probably from the arrival of a male). With a closed posture now: "Sure thing sir." She attempts a smile at Em before leaving. The waitress has obviously known pain.
The men at the table stop and stare at you for a moment. It appears as if they weren't expecting someone as menacing as you tonight.
The lone man at the bar doesn't notice your arrival. He and the bartender are obviously in the middle of a good story. They are too far away to hear.
A broad shouldered man enters the tavern carrying a halberd. He walks over and sits at the table with the lady in black.
She was pleased that the serving girl, Lily, seemed willing to answer her questions. The priestess was certain the girl had an addiction - she was equally certain Lamm and/or his men were feeding her addiction to keep her docile. Emilia grew inwardly agitated at how extensive Lamm's reach was - how many people's lives he was destroying or had destroyed.
She shook off the darker thoughts and gave Lily a small smile. "The white wine and bangers and mash will do, Lily. Thank you." Emilia's eyes quietly strayed to the singer and lyrist, Another family Lamm means to destroy... Emilia's fingers gripped the table just ever so slightly -- the nails digging into weathered, sticky wood, before relaxing.
Emilia heard the tavern door open and observed the familiar, imposing figure of Garvid. Quietly, to be heard by Lily only, she declared, "Here is my companions, now."
At the man's approach and greeting, Emilia inclined her head and waited for him to be seated.
"Good evening, Garvid. And no, not as yet. I have ordered the house speciality." Hearing the man's familiar manner around the serving girl, Emilia looked at Lily and added a little more politely, "If you would be so kind as to bring my companion the bangers and mash, as well. Thank you, Lily." She had caught Lily's reaction and then tentative smile.
As to the conversation that was coming from the next table and Garvid's immediate reasoning ... she simply gave a straight smile and for a brief moment took in the figure of half-orc at the card table. She replied in low voice, "I have heard worse and such consideration does not concern me. Especially now, with your arrival." If those men think I am just another one of Lamm's present targets, then let them continue to believe it.
Upon Garvid's whispered enquiry as to the exact purpose of the visit to the tavern, she leaned her head closer and replied with a mutual discretion, "I would like to listen. There's a fine woman near the hearth, Dinah Lester, it would seem she is here to plead with Lamm." He has her son. She had heard the boor say so at the next table. I believe the man is expected."
Emilia looked across at Garvid's bruised hand on the table and her dark brow lifted. "Do you require healing?"
"Good evening Sabina," he began with a slight bow of courtesy, "I'll not keep her majesty waiting."
Sabina turns and leads the way. "This way then." She guides you down a couple of hallways filled with hundreds of patrons and finally ends in front of a set of large mahogany double doors. Two Sable Company marines stand guard on either side of the doors.
"Open them." Sabina speaks matter-of-factly. It is obvious that there is no love lost between Sabina and the soldiers. "Yes...m'am!" The man salutes almost mockingly and fulfills the lady's wish.
You enter the magnificent Great Hall. A little bit less than fifty people are gathered. There is fine food and drink on the tables. Servants walk around passing out drink refills and heavy hors d'oeuvre. Volastra and her best works are present. She stands with a group explaining her styles. The majority of the patrons are facing the walls enjoying her art. A handful stand under the large chandelier in the middle of the room, the Queen included.
Ileosa sees you from across the room and excuses herself from her current conversation. She walks over with a glass of champagne in her hand and a grace that is rarely seen. Her auburn colored hair is braided and pulled up. She is wearing an emerald full length dress cut down in the front, exposing her navel. The tightness of the dress accentuates her perfect figure. She stares in your eyes for a second weighing your soul before speaking. Your heart races as she speaks. You do not remember being in the presence of anyone as intimidating.
"Welcome noble troubadour."
She reaches out and lightly touches your hand. As she leans forward to do so, she exposes most of her cleavage to you.
Manius shoots the new arrival at funeral-woman's table a curious look. From the sounds of it he wasn't the only person looking to cause some trouble tonight. However, a growling from his stomach distracted him. Leaning back on his chair, he raised a hand to wave over the serving girl, shouting as soon as he gets her attention, "One bangers and mash, please! Heavy on the bangers! Thank you!"
"Make a habit of this childnapping, does your boss man?" Manius asked, returning his attention to the game at hand, "Sounds like he does a little more than Shiver..."
Calcedon had been in enough great houses' splendor that the architecture didn't distract him from the people held within. This obviously was the place where the real connections could be made, and he'd been invited. It was just as Horace had told him, don't presume greatness, presume humility and others will see you're out of place and push you forward. Presuming greatness would only cause resentment. The young nobleman would have to thank him later.
He could tell from across the room why the king had abandoned his harem. That particular impression was increased tenfold as she crossed the room. Although he was young, Cal was considerably experienced in the ways of women, but as his heart leaped into his throat he realized he was completely out of his depth. Her strength of presence alone spoke to her considerable pull. But if his dreams were to be realized, he had to be able to withstand her, and even impress her.
He knelt before her according to custom although he did not move his hand from where she touched it as to not pull away. It would be uncouth to recoil from the touch of the Queen. Well, unless she was seducing him, he might be allowed. The very idea enflamed his mind and he made sure to bow his head to hide his blush until it could be controlled. He was actually glad he remembered to put on a little foundation today to help hide his redness. "It is indeed an honor to be welcomed into your presence."
As he took a knee, he had a whiff of expensive perfume that was rightfully intoxicating, and he nearly lost his nerve again, but managed to compose himself as long as he wasn't looking directly at her.
One bangers and mash, please! Heavy on the bangers! Thank you!"
Lily nods and heads back to the kitchen.
"Sounds like he does a little more than Shiver..."
Sam speaks up this time, obviously proud of his boss. "Drugs, muggings, blackmail, murder...you name it. He's above the law. You know how many times he's pulled off a crime and framed some sucker..." He leans back and laughs. "There's been many an innocent man and woman rotting away fer some crime him and those lambs done commited."
Tom jumps in. "He's got an unlimited source of lackies. There are so many snotty nosed shits running around this town with no momma and pop...a virtual army of brats at his disposal.. He's a genius."
Sam continues. "And now you see why you is lucky you met us tonight. We can get you in on this action."
After a few minutes, the lone brute at the bar turns and scans the room. His eyes stop at Em and Garvid's table. He looks up and down Em's figure before turning his attention to Garvid. When their eyes meet, the brute's face hardens. He continues staring at him.
Lily exits the kitchen with an arm full of food. She looks at the two in eye contact and her face blushes pink. She sheepishly pleads with the man as she passes the bar. "Not tonight Mack...please."
The bartender turns around and corrects her angrily. "Why don't you just worry about doing your job you shiver whore!
Lily approaches the table and hands out the food. With her head down, she mouths: I AM SORRY.
With a small, fixed smile on her face, Emilia continued to listen in on the conversation coming from the gamblers' table. She kept her eyes straight on Garvid, so it seemed as though her attention was wholly on the barbarian.
As tales of Lamm's misdeeds flowed from the lips of the crime lord's lackeys, and their pleasure in their master's position and power, the more willpower it took for Emilia not to rise and beat them with their own mugs. She was not a strong woman but her anger had suddenly grown white-hot and she was sure she could do them some damage before they killed her. At least she was learning more about Lamm's operations - his lackeys too stupid to keep their mouths shut.
It seemed the thugs were encouraging the half-orc to throw his lot in with Lamm, and, Emilia's dark gaze darted across to the large half-breed and she attempted to measure his intent and complicity without the notice of his companions.
Emilia wished she knew who this half-orc was and his connection to Lamm.
Taking a breath to still herself, Emilia casually glanced around the room. Her eyes happened to fall on the look the man at the bar was levelling upon her companion. Looking to Garvid, it seemed her ally had noticed and was staring right back. Inwardly she sighed as she had not wanted trouble this night and it seemed like there was a storm brewing between the two of them. Turning her face to Garvid, she uttered under her breath, "Do not permit him to goad you into a fight." She and the barbarian had not known each other long and there was no way of knowing if he would heed her quiet counsel. But the look that was passing between the men did not give her any peace of mind. Still...Garvid might surprise you with his calmer temper, she mused privately.
The brute at the bar turned angrily upon Lily. Emilia's nails once again scored the table before her. He must be the one supplying her with Shiver. When Lily approached and handed them their meal, mouthing her apology, Emilia with fixed smile, asked under her breath, "Will you be alright, Lily?", hoping the serving girl would know her meaning well enough.
Emilia's eyes scanned the room, searching for any ally to the brute sitting at the bar; but unfortunately not recognising any of the other faces.
Tears well up in Lily's eyes at Em's question. She bites her lip and nods quickly before turning and heading back to the kitchen.
Emilia saw the tears swimming in Lily's eyes and felt a true moment of compassion for her plight. As the serving girl turned to leave, Emilia swiftly and quietly asked her, "Who is that man at the bar? Why are you afraid of him?"
Looking at his hand, he waves the sister off. "Nah. It's a flesh wound. Will teach me to not to grab daggers the wrong way around." He chuckles cynically as the men mention letting someone else take the fall, then the scene with the bartender occurs. Hearing the priestess' response, he says nothing, but merely winks with the eye not seen by the men in the bar.
Garvid completely ignores Mack, instead reaching out to take the plates from Lily's shaking hands, and places them on the table. "Thanks, sugar." He eat a spoonful of mash, still completely ignoring the angry guy at the bar. Finally deciding to turn his attention towards things more trivial than food, Garvid turns his gaze towards the brute at the bar, slowly and carefully picks up a sausage from his plate, and begins chewing it, without breaking eye contact at all. As he finishes, he swallows, wipes his mouth with his sleeve and asks in a tone, which doesn't particularly care about the other's answer, "This is some good food, am I right?", leaning back on the chair and crossing his arms on his chest, maintaining eye contact. Ain't nobody expecting this. Throws people right out of balance. Either that, or asking them if they got lost in my eyes. Make your move, a!@!$~*.
After the tearful Lily had returned to the kitchen, Emilia picked up her cutlery as Garvid had already taken a mouthful of the semi-lumpy mash. His hand was sliced, yet he showed no sign of concern so she did not press the issue. She presumed with his occupation it was a standard injury, as he casually shrugged it off. And now he was playing some cat-and-mouse game with the man at the bar -- sausage in mouth and proclaiming enjoyment of the meal. Emilia cut a piece of the sausage and placed it in her mouth, chewing slowly and nodding her head in agreement even though it didn't seem as though Garvid was interested in what she thought of the food so much as being noticed/heard or whatever his ploy was -- the man hadn't indicated his plans and so she gave him leave to see where this would lead and played along for now.
As she chewed her food, her thoughts once more centred around Lamm and she wondered why he hadn't shown himself in the tavern by now. The singer was still standing by the hearth and the gamblers had not strayed from their cards. Her dark brown-eyed gaze levelled on Garvid once more and she made a mental note to enquire into his life ... She knew little and was curious. Also, it made sense to know as much as one could about an ally.
To distract him just a little from his staring match, she asked softly, her throaty voice sounding even raspier, "Tell me something about yourself, your life, if you can between long looks with that one...", her eyes darted toward the angry brute at the bar before settling back on the barbarian. She took a sip of her wine.
She had her daggers on her in case a fight broke out -- but she knew her limitations as a fighter (she wasn't one!). Garvid looked like he could certainly take care of himself, but they were seemingly outnumbered among the current patrons.
Garvid waits a moment for a response from the butch-looking guy at the bar, before smiling condescendingly and turning towards his companion, lifting the flagon of ale in front of himself. Taking a small sip, he begins talking, seemingly paying all his attention to the conversation. "Well, I'm local. I've been living in the same small apartment since I was born, on King Hallad Road, if you know the place. You probably do, across from me is the only decent tavern in Old Korvosa, the Pregnant Pig. I'm pretty much looking for work now, and my work experience isn't one to mention in front of polite company.", he nods slowly, indicating the card players on the table next to them. Your timing is a bit... bad, sister... "Oh, sure, I grew up in the Korvosan Guard, been there for 16 years, before Lamm framed me for some noble's murder, so I came to this bar to beat the ever living hell out of him and drag him through the streets to the dungeons. What are you doing here?", snickering at the thought. "And yourself? All I know is that you're a Pharasmin. Heard you're doing work as a midwife, which is, commendable, if I have to be honest. Way too many births in this town. You're from here, or from good ol' Cheliax?", he asks, beginning to cut down the sausage with his knife, and eating slowly. That IS actually pretty decent. Should probably make Sanya make me some next time.
Emilia studied the guardsman sitting at her table with an earnest, almost critical eye. She wondered if Garvid had understood her question and intent. If he had not, she would explain it to him, somewhere outside and far from this place. Inwardly she sighed but gave no sign of it outwardly to any who were watching or taking note of her motions. She was certain she had a keener and wiser intellect than her dining companion -- Did he believe her a simpleton? She settled her emotions and composed her reaction. You're strangers, still. Calm yourself. Do not take offence when none may have been intended.
She concentrated on responding to his question as to her vocation. In the same low, throaty voice, mindful of the "ears" of the gamblers around them, she answered, "I am indeed one of the Lady of Graves' faithful. I tend to the tombs of the Grand Cathedral and I am a trained midwife, assisting those in the poorer districts." She silently agreed with Garvid -- too many children were born and often abandoned or left to die in the poorer districts of Korvosa. Unwed, expectant mothers were not a rarity among the poor. "I was born and raised in Pillar Hill and now I spend my time moving between the Sepulcher Ward and North Point."
Emilia watched as Garvid cut into one of the remaining sausages in his bowl. With her change in circumstance, Emilia was no longer a picky eater (as she once was in childhood when coin was plentiful). She took another mouthful of the mash, uncertain of how to continue talking to Garvid. Instead, she turned her face slightly so she could see the man at the bar out of the corner of her eye. She did not trust the scowling man -- the hard look he cast upon her companion. Her body began to prepare itself for battle ... she felt her pulse and heartbeat quicken ... Perhaps Garvid knew how to handle the brute or bring him to heel. Only time would tell.
"He certainly sounds like a big player." Certainly sounds like a a#@###@. "But how do I know you aren't just talking big? All I've got so far is your word of his grand nefariousness, and that he might have inconvenienced the woman by the fireplace."
Ileosa uses the hand she is touching to raise the violinist back to his feet. She hooks her hand into the crook of his arm and stands next to him. "Come. Walk with me." She slowly leads him around the great hall, stopping at each painting for a moment. Sabina falls in behind the two with her right hand on the hilt of her sword.
"As you know, our great King has been sick. We have some of the best clergymen Korvosa has to offer providing care." She stops in front of a painting of a nighttime battle between imps and pseudodragons over the skies of Castle Korvosa. "This is exquisite. Such intricate detail."
She continues on to the next painting. As they pass a male waiter, she grabs a glass of champagne from his tray and hands it to you. The waiter stands nervously in her presence and almost drops his tray as he walks off. "Well...he obviously heard you perform once because he has spoken highly of your music." She turns and looks you in the eyes again. "When he recovers his strength, I plan to have a party for him. I would like you to perform...."
She pauses and awaits your response. Her eyes penetrate your soul as she smiles seductively at you.
Emilia saw the tears swimming in Lily's eyes and felt a true moment of compassion for her plight. As the serving girl turned to leave, Emilia swiftly and quietly asked her, "Who is that man at the bar? Why are you afraid of him?"
Lily shakes her head "no" at Em, letting her know that she is too afraid to answer. It is obvious though that Em's presence has comforted her a little. She heads back to the kitchen, scratching her arms.
Knowledge(local) to remember who this particular civilised gentleman is.: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Just as the brute at the bar speaks, Garvid finally recognizes the man's face. He is someone Garvid had arrested. As best you remember, he didn't come peacefully and you had beat him pretty good while putting him in a cell.
He looks at the table of gamblers. "Shut up you idiots. We've got a flatfoot among us." He stands with his mug in his hand and points at a large scar above his left eye. "You gave me this...you shit."
The lady in the corner shrinks down in fear. The two gamblers turn abruptly and look at Garvid. The bartender reaches under the bar. The other patrons look shocked at the events. Lily sticks her head out of the kitchen.
Flatfoot is a term used in Korvosa for city guards. Many believe it comes from the fact that they walk around instead of fly like the Sable Marines.
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Know. Local re Old Korvosa: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
Old Korvosa is the oldest part of the Varisian city of Korvosa. It covers all of Endrin Isle, which rises from sea level in the estuary mouth of the Jeggare River to a 200-foot-high escarpment on the seaward north side. At the foot of Garrison Hill, as this steep incline is called, sits the poverty stricken, and collapsing ward of Bridgefront. Old Dock stands on the relatively flat eastern protrusion of the island. Atop Garrison Hill stands the stone wall of Fort Korvosa, completed in 4438 AR. The imposing black-marble Palace Arkona dominates Old Korvosa, while the remains of the original wooden palisade slowly rot, like much of the rest of the ward, near the gate from the city. It contains the Pantheon of Many, a massive temple dedicated to most of Avistan’s most popular deities.
It is where the poorest of the poor live, considered the slums of Korvosa.
I really should start using the goddamn blade on people too stupid to learn...
Garvid sighs, standing up from the chair slowly, glaring at the man's eyes. "And I don't suppose you're going to be the bigger man in the situation and forgive...", before looking around quickly. One versus Rather take the initiative. If I can take out the big guy, the bartender should piss himself and the card players, well... If I'm lucky, maybe someone will surrender and we can dash it., before grabbing his halberd and charging Mack.
Garvid stampedes across the floor, trying to jab the hilt into the man's chest, breaking a few bones in the process, but otherwise leaving him unscathed. Unfortunately, Mack ducks just at the wrong moment, ironically letting the weighted butt of the polearm smash him in the exact same spot where Garvid scarred him. A terrifying crack is heard as Mack flies backwards, flips over the bar and lands straight into the wall of bottles, shattering every single one of them and landing next to the terrified bartender, neck twisted in an unnatural position. Sam raises his eyes to see Garvid pulling back his halberd, staggered at what just happened. "F%#%..." Looking around at the terrified faces in the room, Garvid begins speaking, voice low in the suddently silent tavern, "He drew first."
"Now that is some fine diplomacy!"
Manius leaps to his feet, draws his rapier and stabs it into the table before him. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you could all remain calm and seated we can ensure no more precious liquids be spilt this day!" He leans in close to Sam and Tom, "Think we might have to call the game there, boys, it's gotten a bit messy in here..."
"I never thought-...I mean, I knew he was doing bad things, but I never thought he liked it! I just thought he was working for Lamm like me. I mean, I don't like making the Shiver. Hell, I was mostly doing it because I thought Lamm would hurt Teron if I stopped."
Silvio shakes his head. "But to see that look in his eyes when he dug the knife in. There wasn't any regret. I know that look. It was the same look I remember when we were little and we found some week old honeycakes. It was joy. We knew we weren't supposed to have them, but we didn't care. We reveled in it. That's what I saw in his eyes."
"Teron told me to go back to the lab, but I can't. Not after seeing that. I think he knew too, but he thinks I'm a coward. He told me that if I was brave enough I could run, but that Lamm would find me eventually. That the only one Lamb he knew who had escaped was you."
He wipes away some tears. "So I came to find you. Because I'm done, Marial. And I'm braver than Teron thinks. I'm through with him and Lamm." He looks at the small girl. "What do we do now?"
Initiative:
Orcsson <
Orphans<
Sam <
Em
Tom
Garvid
Bartender
Lily
Mack lays dead next to the bartender.
"Now that is some fine diplomacy!""Ladies and gentlemen, if you could all remain calm and seated we can ensure no more precious liquids be spilt this day!" He leans in close to Sam and Tom, "Think we might have to call the game there, boys, it's gotten a bit messy in here..."
The door to the tavern swings open and two small, dirty kids step into the room. Behind them, you hear a voice. "Cover my escape!" They draw daggers.
Sam flicks his wrist and a dagger emerges. He stands and moves next to Garvid.
His blade slips past Garvid's chain shirt and hits flesh.
The lady in the corner screams as she sees the orphans enter and hears the man say he is leaving. Due to that plus the sudden gruesome violence, she passes out and hits her head on the hearth.
The other two men sit in shock.
"I did warn you!"
At Silvio's final statement, Marial's eyes light up. Sil, that's great! You're the only one I've told about this place, you can hole up here for a few days while we find another room somewhere, and you can ask Farrell if he's needing any help, I bet he'd be happy to take you on, and when Maretha-
At the name Marial suddenly stops her torrent of run-on sentences. Wait - you came straight from the docks - what about Maretha? Does she know? She's practically your sister; you can't be leaving her behind?
Orcsson narrowly misses Sam's jugular, but the stab is still extremely effective.
Sam cries out in pain, "What the... and continues his attack on Garvid. He reaches with his off hand to cover the hole in his shoulder as it sprays blood on the bar.
The violence escalated far more quickly than she imagined. The death of the brute by the bar did not unsettle Emilia; life, death and fate she understood well enough under the Lady of Graves. She inhaled sharply upon the sight of Garvid's strength, and, her body and senses were heightened and ready to act.
She heard Dinah Lester's scream and watched the singer faint and fall, hitting her head on the hearth. She would need to check on her as she was an innocent simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Moving steadily back away from those with weapons and toward the singer , guardedly Emilia began to utter the words to the all too familiar spell, hoping to assist her allies (for it seemed the Half-Orc was aiding them!), in buoying their courage further still to put down the remaining criminals in the room.
Initiative:
Orcsson <
Orphans<
Sam <
Em <
Tom <
Garvid
Bartender
Lily
Lily watches as her "friend" heads over to help the fancy lady who is bleeding from her fall. On the way, she casts a spell that aids her allies.
At the sight of Sam bleeding all over the bar and even worse Mack lying dead, Tom stands and runs for the door that Lamm just opened. He knocks over his chair and trips before making it to the orphans. They hold out their daggers to stop him. Not daring to fight them, he dives under a table in the corner. "Don't kill me! I give up!"