Thanks, that's just uh, really great of you. Seriously, remember earlier when I said I'd be fine if you turned me away? That was likely incorrect, although there's really only one way to find out, which is a thing that I don't want to do.
Well, I do want to find out, but uh, I don't want to find out that I would've found no shelter and gotten torn apart in a riot.
Thanks though. Algund pauses, looking Corwin in the eyes and smiling at him. I'll follow you, I agree we should get moving.
Wren, did you say her name was? I sure hope she's okay with strangers, she looks real dangerous. Wouldn't want to get on her bad side. Algund looks at the girl and smiles.
Thorfinn nods to the guard after moving the man inside. "You have my thanks and the Company's, guardsman. Best of luck tonight." with that, Thorfinn mounts Sleipnir and follows the others, her claws clicking on the cobblestones. I hope wherever it is we're going has somewhere she can stay safely. he thinks, patting her feathered neck.
A well muscled Shoanti in reinforced scale mail appears to be knocking on the door of your safe house. He appears quite heavily armed with a light crossbow, an alchemical silver warhammer slung over his back and slung over one arm is a heavy steel shield with an device fixed to the front in the form of a symbol of pharasma, this emits a light with a slight purple tint to it. A cold iron warhammer rests beside the door.
Unless the group approaches stealthily he will turn the shield and it's light towards them though those watching will notice his hand goes onto the warhammer by the door. "Given your garb and the presence of a child I am hopeful that you are of a reasonable disposition but if not..." A light metallic scrape of the hammer being lifted punctuates his statement however he offers a smile to the child "Are you well tonight little one?"
Approaching the shop, Rebecca keeps her hand on the pommel of her rapier upon seeing the man.
"What business do you have with Zellara at this time of night?" Sighing, she mentally checks her tone. "I am sorry if I sound blunt, but if you were hoping to loot the place under the cover of all of this anarchy, I would recommend strongly picking another shop."
"I am a Priest of Pharasma, and have had dealings with her in the past. It has been some time but given the way things are going I wanted to check in on her, she is a skilled Harrower and I respect this. Usually I tend to reserve my more physical preaching to the undead that crop up in the Grey District but for tonight I'm willing to bring the hammer down on anyone being opportunistic. But you, what business do you have with Zellara?" He doesn't make any aggressive actions but clearly he's not completely letting his guard down even if the group contains a child, there's more than enough adults here to make any fight against the group by himself a challenging fight at the least.
A strange look graces Rebecca's face.
"We were sent by her to right a wrong committed against her. Well, against most of us. Now we are returning with news of success and further questions raised by discoveries made in the process."
"Such as discovering her severed head being stored with her harrow cards..."
Shaking away the errant thought, she smiles at the new comer. "But where are my manners? I am Rebecca Mavern, private investigator and former Korvosa Guardsman. With me are Corwin and Wren Avelard, Thorfinn of Sable Company, his hippogriff, and..." she trails off as she gestures to Algund, "I am sorry, I can't remember your name."
"Algund, Neithan. Don't think I mentioned that earlier, no need to apologize. Anyway..." Algund trails off as he turns towards the Cleric.
"Hello!" He says enthusiastically. "You not got family or anyone else that needs checking up on?" Lonely? Algund's eyes glint, gazing boldly at Gadren.
"Family no, a few friends and associates." He inclines his head towards the door "-who I appreciate you helping. Generally when I am checking up on anyone it's in the Grey District to make sure they're still resting, sometimes they need to be put back to sleep." The man had a ghoulish sense of humour at times but as a priest of Pharasma he was surrounded by the subject of death quite a bit.
"My own name is Gadren, just Gadren." Natives to the city would recognize it as a Shoanti name, possibly sharing some route with Gaedren given the similar spelling but pronunciation having the a sound less drawn out.
As the group discusses their intention in front of Zellara's home, the door opens with a creak, slowly, as by an unfelt breeze.
At the far end of the small, single-roomed home, a woman has her back turned towards you. At first glance, you almost mistake her for Zellara, but when she turns, it's clear that this woman is significantly younger. She is short and well-muscled, with dark hair done up in a pony-tail, clad in leather and silk.
The home is otherwise abandoned, and shows clear signs of having been empty for weeks. No sign of food, the wall hangings, the rugs, or Zellara herself can be found. The furniture is in pieces, scattered throughout the room under a thick layer of dust, disturbed only by some footprints that appear fresh.
Rebecca nods at Gadren somewhat uncomfortably. "We just sent a man with a very similar name to join your friends in the Grey. I know the city is cheap when it comes to the graves of criminals and the impoverished, but could you please ensure that a thick stone lid is placed over his? The man deserves every ounce of punishment coming to him in the afterlife, I would hate to see that interrupted by some fool waking him."
Seeing the door open, she walks through, taking note of the differences from before. "Well... I wonder what it was we were eating, given food hasn't been on the menu here in quite some time."
"Excuse me, miss. Are you related to Zellara?"
Corwin moves Wren back behind him after the heavily armed and armored man addresses her.
"Have a care not to talk to my daughter so freely sir. I don't know you." Corwin cautions him, his tone cold, sounding every bit stern and professorial. "And tonight being as wild and disrupted as it is, I think we should all be very polite to one another." he continues, eyeing Gadren's hand that is still holds the grey iron warhammer at the ready.
"That being said, good evening, and hopefully good meeting Gadren."
"There is a fair amount of traffic around Zellara's home for such an unsettled night." Corwin says in an aside to Rebecca.
As the group discusses their intention in front of Zellara's home, the door opens with a creak, slowly, as by an unfelt breeze.
Well that is mildly disturbing. Corwin thinks as Wren darts behind him at the door eerily creaking open.
Then seeing the state of the home, and its current occupant Corwin continues aloud,
"Well, the home looks as I expected. The footprints are likely ours from our earlier visit Rebecca. Well, and the new, and thankfully alive-appearing, individual in the home."
"It looks like dead people live there." Wren whispers, eyes wide from behind Corwin's robe. Somehow she has managed to get ahold of the dagger once more, and grips it, unsheathed and white knuckled.
"You aren't kidding. And assuming Pia and Kamilla make it back safely from their errand I imagine this to be the largest amount of clients the poor woman had at the same time. A shame none of us can pay her in any currency she can use, beyond the blood previously spilled."
Seeing Wren's reaction to the scene, Rebecca places a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.
"Naught to fret. Master Dren here will put them to rest if there are." Looking back over her shoulder at the man she adds, "I hope you don't mind my calling you that... I think it might decrease animosity toward you from... well, many in these parts... if you didn't use your full name. To similar to a now dead crime lord's, you understand I hope."
Gadren moves his shield so it's light will illuminate the mystery woman in the room better but he leaves her a moment to answer Rebecca's question. He moves his grip on the hammer to just beneath it's head, not a stance easily swung from but he's not put it away completely yet.
Lowly to Rebecca in response to her statement about Gaedren he raises an eyebrow he speaks lowly "If he hasn't been interred I might make extra notice an augment his final interment from my own coin for friends of Zellara. If he has been interred I'll keep an eye on the spot and deal with him if he should stray. Still before too long the Lady will pass judgement."
C'mon now, friend, let's go inside, Algunds says, approaching Gadren easily and confidently. Algund passes him relatively close by as he walks through the door to the house, guard completely down.
Looking around at the scattered bits of wood, Algund tries to find an intact chair or something to sit down on.
As the party enters the room, wondering how exactly this is possible, an apparition appears before you. An apparition of an attractive middle-aged Varisian woman with long, dark hair─Zellara.
"Welcome back, I suppose I owe you an explanation. No doubt you've figured out by now that I myself was one of Gaedren Lamm's final victims. I lost a family heirloom─my harrow deck─to one of his pickpockets a year ago. My son took it upon himself retrieve it for me, and he was murdered by those thugs of his. They sent me his head and hands in a box. Naturally, I went to the Korvosan Guard, but although sympathetic, they had neither the time nor the resources to bring him to justice. So I took matters into my own hands, sold most of my belongings, bought a new harrow deck, and used my abilities to discover his hideout─the old fishery. I attempted to infiltrate it on my own, but his thugs grabbed me and brought me before Gaedren, who fed me to that alligator of his. My head he kept, together with my original harrow deck. Those cards, bloodstained and discarded, became the focus for my anguish and despair. I cast my mind outward, and before long I found some people in which I sensed the greatest honor, the greatest strength, the greatest potential, and the greatest anger. I am but a dwindling spirit now, but I feel I may still be able to provide you with assistance in the dark times ahead. Prove me right, please, and become the heroes you were meant to be; the city of Korvosa now has need of you. Keep my harrow deck closeby; my spirit is inextricably linked with it."
Aura moderate divination
Alignment chaotic good Senses 60 ft.
Int 10 Wis 13 Cha 13 Ego 8
Language empathy (but see below)
Hand-painted images decorate this harrow deck, and the cards frames are gilded in silver so that they sparkle and flash under lighting. Despite the worn condition of the card backs, the images on the faces are so vibrant they seem to move when viewed out of the corner of the eye. The deck handles with surprising ease, almost shuffling itself. A bent, torn, or lost card always seems to mend itself or reappear when no one is looking.
These features are subtle manifestations of the spirit that haunts the cards. In life, Zellara lived by this deck, and in death, she has become the deck. Although this magical harrow deck wasn’t created using the standard method for creating magic items, it should nonetheless be treated as an intelligent magic item. Zellara can sense the world around the deck via sight and sound, and she can communicate with anyone who holds the deck via empathy. She can create a major image once per day, often doing so to generate an image of herself manipulating the cards—in this manner, she can carry on conversations with other creatures in Common or Varisian. She can also cast identify for anyone who holds one of the cards of the deck to his forehead (a move action) up to three times per day.
Zellara’s harrow deck has a special purpose as well: to defend and protect the city of Korvosa, her home in life and in death. In order to attain this purpose, she can periodically perform powerful harrow readings for those she has chosen as Korvosa’s defenders—the PCs. These harrowings grant those who benefit from them a number of Harrow Points that can be used to manipulate fate and chance.
Zellara can suppress the deck’s powers at will and doesn’t hesitate to do so if anyone attempts to sell the deck or otherwise displeases her. At best, a foolish character could possibly sell the cards as a standard harrow deck for about 50 gp—thus, no pricing information for the deck is needed.
Hang on now, Algund begins, still trying sorting through the broken furniture, do you have any chairs hidden away that weren't broken?
And another question, when you say you found some people with honor and whatnot, does that include all of us, or is it just the people who you sent to kill Gadren? And what about Pia, Kamilla, and Verlaine? Algund leans his glaive in a corner delicately, placing his lamp on the floor in the middle of the room, which causes the light to illuminate mostly shins. He looks around for some wood to stack up and create a makeshift table.
Oh and uh... he begins, looking up at her spirit, I truly am genuinely sorry for your fate. His voice has changed, it's slightly softer, and more melancholy, and he looks almost ashamed at the display of emotion.
De ce are nevoie orașul?
What does the city need?
Wren, not daring to enter the home, whispers from where she hides behind the doorframe, "That's just so sad."
Outside checking for a place Sleipnir can stay for the night, Thorfinn misses the big reveal. Someone can fill him in later, but he didn't know Zellara anyway.
And another question, when you say you found some people with honor and whatnot, does that include all of us, or is it just the people who you sent to kill Gadren? And what about Pia, Kamilla, and Verlaine?
Corwin snorts a bit at this. "I don't think that you would be here right now young man, if Zellara hadn't pushed the strings of fate a bit."
Corwin then turns to Zellara, his eyes narrowed a bit, the lines of age crinkling at the corners. "When you say "dark times ahead" it seems that you mean a bit more than the chaos surrounding a normal succession. I expected the tumult and turmoil. But if the city requires heroes...then things might be a bit worse than I believed."
"Can you provide any guidance as to the form of the troubles?" Corwin asks.
Gadren's focus is on the supposedly dead Zellara, which comes as a shock to him for a few reasons. Taking a breath to comport himself he focuses on trying to recall what is said as it may be of some importance later. Putting his hammer away but not his shield he begins to cast detect magic, looking towards Zellara.
He doubted she would con them in such a fashion but Korvosa had it's share of tricksters and he'd rather start ruling out the possibility of illusion magic. Too often people became blinded by lies or half truths, better to keep your wits about you. The large Shoanti didn't enter yet as he appraised the situation.
The short girl turns as she feels the breeze coming in from the front door. When a handful of people enter the building, her eyes go wide and she holds up her hands defensively, shaking her head. When she sees Rebecca asking about her relation to Zellara, she sighs in relief.
After a brief moment, she reaches into her pack and produces a small slate chalkboard and piece of chalk. She writes quickly, her scrawled letters a neat, well-practiced cursive. "No, I was studying under Zellara. She told me to wait here tonight. Who are you? What's happened to her?"
When Zellara's apparition appears, Cataria stares intently, reading the words and bowing her head. "I am honored, Madam Zellara" she writes, before performing a quick pirouette and curtsy, pointing at herself and writing "Cataria. You?"
Who are you?
We're a group of people. Algund begins, apart from the scared one on the doorstep and the fellow outside with the hippogryph, or perhaps including one or both of them, all of us have a connection to Gaedren Lamm. Several of us have just killed him, I myself was elsewhere at the time, but we've met on the street. Well, one of us was knocking on the door when we arrived. And also Zellera's dead. Algund finishes this introduction just before the image of Zellera appears, speaking evenly and plainly.
Zellara's spirit smiles at Algund's question. "Nothing happens without reason, my boy. As far as guidance," she says as she inclines her head towards Corwin, "For the moment you will have to forge your own path. Just remember, above all, to thine own self be true."
And with that, Zellara's spirit form departs, leaving you standing alone in an abandoned, dusty house.
Also, Algund is unable to find a single unbroken chair.
Cataria's face is full of expression as she looks over each of the strangers in her now-dead mentor's home. She grins a wide, bright smile as she sees Wren, waving and dropping onto her haunches, waving the girl closer. She looks up at Corwin, Algund and Rebecca, a grim determination set into her mouth as she draws it into a thin line, nodding. "I will...I will come with you." The words are slow, and over-enunciated, but her voice is clear, a lilting brogue that sounds as if it was yearning to be used again. The young girl blushes as she speaks, turning her attention back toward Wren, more comfortable with the company of optimistic youth than of dour heroes.
Right then. Algund says, looking off into the distance.
Just be true to myself? Just be myself? Apparently deep down inside there's an amazing person hiding, and the answer to any awful situation is to be that person. But...what is there deep down inside of me? Who could know? That cannot be an important question, there is not anything to be gained from this thinking. Shake it off.
What's that mean? Algund asks, before turning to look at Cataria, voice slightly more shrill than he would like. He looks at the floor for a long moment, then shrugs off his pack and sits down in the corner by his glaive, having given up on a chair.
She looks embarrassed to speak. I don't uh, I don't actually think we know what we're doing yet or uh, where we're going. He smiles encouragingly at Cataria, following her gaze to look at Wren, who he also smiles at. Algund removes his helmet and sets it beside him, having claimed the area around him by filling it with his possessions. He rolls his head out, causing his neck to crack, before speaking again.
So, I suppose we should all say a few words about ourselves, since we've been gathered, as it seems, to do some good. I myself have been on that path for over a year now, know most of the artists in the city who want to say something that people aren't fond of. Know lots of people like Zellera who've been wronged and want to get even, always do what I can. Chased down criminals before, broken some bones when I had to, though I've never killed anyone. I have always wanted to know how it feels to kill someone, but I don't need to mention that. He folds his legs before him and rests his wrists across his lap.
I was hunting down Lamm when the city erupted, looking into some disappearances of children around Gold Market. That's my connection, potentially helped Zellera draw me in, if indeed she did. Algund eyes Corwin as he says this, the man's earlier words verifying to Algund that someone like Zellera might believe in him. Shelyn's power is wrapped like rings round my fingers, righteous and rightful and... Algund looks around, palms up, clearly trying to think of another word that begins with r. And anyway, he says, shaking his head and shrugging, I've been doing my best for a while now.
He looks around at the others, gathered in the shadowy room, what about the rest of us?
Wren, intrigued by the exotically dressed young woman, and much more comfortable now that the ghost has vanished, moves from the doorway to behind her father.
"Father, I think that she might not be very good at speaking...I wonder if there is something wrong with her ears." she says with the incredible bluntness that only the youth can muster.
The dagger has disappeared, and Wren, entranced by the woman's flamboyant skirts, bracelets and earrings, moves forward as if bewitched.
"I am Wren", she says moving closer and sticking out her hand.
As the child approaches, Cataria takes her hand in her own, nodding without any embarrassment or shame when the girl mentions her deafness. She leans forward slowly, looking up at the other adults before whispering in Wren's ear. "It's easier for me to speak this way. I'm Cataria. Cataria Ghita. I dance, read the Harrow, and have been given a blessing by the Gods. They took my hearing, so I can't hear songs anymore, but I still have the music in my head. You can tell all of them that, if you like. What's your name?" She pulls her lips away from the girl's ear when she finishes, her smile still as wide and bright as ever, her attention devoted solely to the girl's face so she could watch her speak.
"I am Gadren, Priest of Pharasma. I perform most of my duties in the grey district laying the deceased to rest and going on patrol to remind them of this if they become restless. I am also a member of the Pathfinder Society and test my abilities accepting some of the challenges set before me by them. Sadly I can not confirm this was Zellara's spirit or not. It departed before I could try to discern more about it with my divination magic just now."
"Still I can not yet fathom why someone would try to trick such a peculiar group." He takes a step forward with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes as he looks at Algund "A word of advice, I do not know for certain who you referred to as scared one, I hope such comment was not addressed towards myself. Even if it was not, I do not know these people but some may not take kindly. I have known fear in my time, and I respect the unknown but a man should try to understand a potential threat before taking action if he can."
"I am Wren." she says as clearly as she can, eyes locked on Cataria's face as well.
Wren stands back from Cataria, then stands, nodding impatiently as Gadren talks. Then, as soon as he is finished she waves her arms around to get everyone's attention.
"OY!" she says loudly, to draw all eyes onto herself. "This is Cataria," she says pointing to the woman, "She is very talented and she can read Harrow too! She got lots of gifts from the Gods, but in return they took her hearing, which I am not sure is a really fair bargain, unless she really got something better than just Harrow..." she says trailing off, her initial bravado draining out of her as she realizes that all the adults are looking at her.
Corwin, a large smile on his face, puts his hand on Wren's shoulder. "Thank you for introducing us to Cataria, Wren." Then, turning to face Cataria squarely, he speaks as plainly as he can, "I am Corwin, Wren's father and a professor of Thassalonian history." His eyes look away from Cataria's as he continues, but he remains facing her, so she can continue to read his lips if necessary. "Zellara's spirit reached out to me in one of my darkest moments as I dispaired of ever finding my child again. I owe her an eternal debt of gratitude, and the benefit of any doubt because of it."
"As for thoughts on what we should do...I think that the best thing we can do is rest the night, then when dawn comes, we can aid the people nearby who need help. We should also keep an eye out, if we are needed to assist with a fire."
"I think that might have been what Zellara was hinting at. Stay alive and help those in the neighborhood who need assistance."
Knowledge (Local), what's the likely outcome of the rioting?: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
The current situation is rather unprecedented, making it extremely difficult to predict any outcome.
Gadren's focus is on the supposedly dead Zellara, which comes as a shock to him for a few reasons. Taking a breath to comport himself he focuses on trying to recall what is said as it may be of some importance later. Putting his hammer away but not his shield he begins to cast detect magic, looking towards Zellara.
Gadren does detect an illusion aura centered on Zellara.
Gadren is peering at the spot where Zellara once stood trying to figure out the nature of the source, an illusion spell of some kind or something of another nature.
Thorfinn speaks up, having entered the house just after Zellara vanished. "I am Thorfinn, of the Sable Company. My parents were Ulfen, but moved to this city to work at Theumanexus College many years ago. They swam the River of Souls many years ago, when my childhood home burned to the ground in a suspicious fire. This Lamm, whom Algund spoke of, was the prime suspect, but the Guard never had conclusive evidence. Commandant Endrin talked me out of dropping out to pursue him, but I've always kept an eye out for evidence, similar crimes, and the like. These days I mostly work as a sort of troubleshooter for the Commandant. I do a lot of independent work. The company won't miss me if it takes a few days to get back, and it seems there's things to be done around here."
"Father, I think that she might not be very good at speaking...I wonder if there is something wrong with her ears."
Algund does not say anything, but looks at the woman's ears carefully. They look like normal ears. Very nice ears. She could still not be able to hear. And look at how enrapt that child is...that is sweet.
"A word of advice, I do not know for certain who you referred to as scared one, I hope such comment was not addressed towards myself. Even if it was not, I do not know these people but some may not take kindly. I have known fear in my time, and I respect the unknown but a man should try to understand a potential threat before taking action if he can."
It uh, certainly was addressed towards you, since you were the one acting scared. Algund cocks his head at Gadren, words even and quick. Not a bad thing, as you've just explained, and I certainly love me some information gathering. Really, I can't think of a reason why people wouldn't take kindly, especially not ones like you, who clearly aren't afraid to admit they've known fear. Right, it just means that you want to die less than I do, although to be perfectly honest I've never really understood the concept of my own mortality, so that doesn't mean a whole lot. In any case, certainly didn't mean that as an insult, so uh, sorry I guess. Algund fumbles his way through this apology, not looking at Gadren as he says the word sorry.
Anyway, you're a cleric of Pharasma, which is pretty cool. I suppose that's about why Zellera wants you here, that, and the fact that you were associates in the past.
"She is very talented and she can read Harrow too! She got lots of gifts from the Gods, but in return they took her hearing, which I am not sure is a really fair bargain, unless she really got something better than just Harrow..."
That makes sense, and it explains why she's afraid to speak. Hey Cataria, Algund says, waiting for a moment when she's able to read his lips, your voice is clear. Your words are easy to understand. Not sure how easy it is for you to determine how you sound, but you sound quite good. he nods once at her before turning back to Corwin.
"As for thoughts on what we should do...I think that the best thing we can do is rest the night, then when dawn comes, we can aid the people nearby who need help. We should also keep an eye out, if we are needed to assist with a fire."
"I think that might have been what Zellara was hinting at. Stay alive and help those in the neighborhood who need assistance."
Well, that's certainly a good start. Will need to do some of the aforementioned information gathering, see what the state of things nearby is, if it's safe to go home, that sort of thing. We'll know more in the morning.
Gadren is peering at the spot where Zellara once stood trying to figure out the nature of the source, an illusion spell of some kind or something of another nature.
Noticing this, Algund closes his eyes and breathes deeply for a moment. When he opens them, he can't help but study the flickering light and shadow cast by the lamp, drinking in the sight like a fine wine. He looks around carefully and slowly.
"Commandant Endrin talked me out of dropping out to pursue him, but I've always kept an eye out for evidence, similar crimes, and the like. These days I mostly work as a sort of troubleshooter for the Commandant. I do a lot of independent work. The company won't miss me if it takes a few days to get back, and it seems there's things to be done around here."
He sounds like me. You sound a bit like me, Throfinn. Lots of independent work. It does seem there's things to be done about here.
In that vein, I think we ought to plan to meet back here again. We of course don't know what things will look like in the morning, but we'll probably part ways soon and want to return to this house. That's not an unreasonable prediction, is it?
"Hmph... foreign Chelish woman, granted she was of enough nobility to marry the late king, but no one expected her to do so."
Reaching into her evidence pouch, she pulls out the broken brooch with their new queen's crest as if this was enough to prove her claims. After a moment, she also pulls out Zellara's harrow cards.
"So, now that your motivations have been laid bare, what would you have done with your... cards. I confess that they are a bit bloodstained, but they are still in good enough condition for use."
Cataria stands, her hand still resting on Wren's shoulder, a wry smirk on her face as Algund comments about the quality of her voice.
"Gadren, Thorfinn, Algund, it is a great pleasure to meet you all. I am sure that between your courage," she tilts her head toward Gadren, "your dedication," at Thorfinn, "and your righteous guidance," she gestures at Algund, "we are sure to be of aide to my beloved city, although I agree with wise Corwin. We should rest. See what the morning brings us. Are there any questions we seek the answer to specifically, Rebecca? You seem a curious, inquisitive sort. I may be able to find some answers, by beseeching the Gods..."
When she first began to speak, the words were still a bit sluggish, her tongue and lips warming up to the idea of speaking as if after a long winter's rest. When she mentions asking the Gods, Cataria looks down, blushing. "I have not spoken this many words in months. I'd nearly forgotten how good it is to speak. I can still hear myself, in my head. At least a little bit. Vibrations, mostly, the same way I can feel music."
Righteous guidance? I am a good leader, but I do not know that I am good at providing righteous guidance. Perhaps I am better at leading by example, but when I do the right things I have the wrong reasons. They will not know. Well Cataria, I've heard drunks worse at speaking than you. He hides his thoughts behind a warm smile, you're still young. A few more years and you'll be unintelligible. That is not important now.
Well, Algund says, looking almost ready to stand up, what else about you Rebecca? Want to tell us a bit more about how you're feeling regarding the late Zellera's imploration that we save the city from vague threats? Algund normally speaks quite quickly, but on this last sentence he has to slow down a bit. Imploration?
Standing up, Algund begins to search the house more thoroughly, speaking softly to himself, although he becomes audible if anyone shows an interest in what he's doing. Now then, no chair, no rug, nothing to sit down on but the floor. But perhaps something soft hides somewhere, forgotten by whoever sacked the place. Maybe a bed upstairs? Gotta be a bed upstairs...upstairs might not exist, though. Might be one story. I suppose I could just use my pack as a pillow, doublet as a cover. Doublet and mail as a cover, because the covering has to make me feel safe, gotta cover the whole body. I wonder if they'll be offended if I take off my doublet, don't have on a shirt underneath.
Hey everyone, do you care if I sleep without a shirt? He looks around at everyone in turn, trying to see if any of them take offence to the idea.
"So, now that your motivations have been laid bare, what would you have done with your... cards. I confess that they are a bit bloodstained, but they are still in good enough condition for use."
"Keep my harrow deck closeby; my spirit is inextricably linked with it."
"I am glad you are learning, I had to have a few teeth loosened a few times before I learned not to imply someone was a coward. Of course if I don't like them so much sometimes I forgot these things." Gadren shrugs.
"If we are to stay here does anyone need healing?" With practiced ease as he says this he removes a bedroll and looks up "I have some food and can provide all the water you might need by Pharasma's grace. I have a bed roll but will give up it's use to the little one or if any of the women are without such." He continues taking out materials from his backpack.
Cataria clears a corner of the room for herself, removing all debris and sliding her slippered feet along the floorboards as she begins to stretch. She continues watching her new companions as she spins, dips, and bends, her muscles loosening with the mild effort.
"When I dance, I can...hear things. See them, too. I think the Gods are guiding me. So please, let me dance for you all tonight?"
Yes, of course, dance for us. I'll be watching closely, purely to take note of any influence by the gods. This last part is said almost sarcastically, as though Algund could possibly have some other motivation for watching a beautiful dancer perform.
Rebecca shrugs.
"You will forgive me if I pass. Between no longer having my particular old wolf to hunt and suddenly having a new queen, I think it might be a good idea for me to go to sleep early. Wake me if looters arrive."
Taking a good spot near the door, Rebecca nods off almost immediately.
what else about you Rebecca? Want to tell us a bit more about how you're feeling regarding the late Zellera's imploration that we save the city from vague threats?
As she is settling down, Rebecca shrugs at Algund's question.
"Not much more to say about future threats until we find them. Korvosa is home to me and my parents. I have no intention on having to help them move on account of failing to stop something that I had the ability to." Yawning, she adds, "Oh, and I suppose it would be hard for Miss Preet to get reunited with her father and for me to be paid if the city falls before his ship arrives in port once more."
Gadren smiled, thinking Cataria must only be saying dance being unsure if everyone is local or not. The term dancer was used as a slur against Varisian and could be taken as calling someone a thief. A strange custom not held outside the city. Dancers in the city referred to themselves as performers...
and he certainly had no objection to the woman seeking guidance from the gods or providing entertainment."I have no objection to you performing Cataria, may the Grey Lady offer you advice in these turbulent times." Gadren will cast Guidance on Cataria. [ooc]Might help if a perform check is required![ooc]
Thorfinn sits quietly by a window, watching for anything suspicious outside. "Considering the strife in the city, I think it would be wise to set watches for the night." he says, without taking his eyes from the window.