Megan's Curse of the Crimson Throne (Inactive)

Game Master Megan Robertson

I will do it if nobody else wishes. I owe my freedom to this group, it's the least I can do. There are better speakers among us if someone else wishes, but your inability to lie to a direct question Ashe means you are probably a poor selection to go.

Ashe does not answer quickly, pondering a polite and hopefully unprovocative... but instructive response.

A brief pause and he says gently... no accusation in his tone, "...It is not an inability, friend Varrel... it is a choice. We all have the potential to aspire to a fidelity of action and word or sink to the depths of corruption and avarice. 'Truth has always been my shield...' it has not betrayed me yet. But If it is my companions wish that someone else speak for our group... I'm am fine with that."

Sorry, been busy with work, and S.A.D. Behavioral therapy's supposed to work really well on SAD. Haven't gotten any yet.

Una nods her head. "Have to agree with Varrel on that one, Ashe. Deception might be needed here. I know you're capable of it, though. You played an excellent Hellknight."

Ashe lowers his gaze... slightly embarrassed at Una's compliment. A very slight smile graces his features.

Apologies, Ashe. I only meant your principles and faith prevent you from speaking falsely. I wasnot mocking you. Now, I believe it's on Trina. Go to Vencarlo and we attempt to conceal you or stay with the church and we petition the Marshall for a just trial with the Bishop's testimony.

"When all is said and done," said Trinia, still gazing at Ashe with those big, green eyes, "I would prefer that this matter be cleared up once and for all. Keep the running and hiding against malign influences refusing to take the Bishop's word. If someone could confront this Kroft of whom you speak, surely you can convince them that I am innocent. If not, then it might be time to flee..."

Varrel smiles, pleased with the young womans descison, for it spoke for her character. He did worry that too much faith in the laws of man might turn against her. It was a Queen who wanted her dead.

There is only so much desire a young heart can withstand...

Ashe smiles stepping over to Trina and slowly enfolds her in a very tender hug of affection and support.

"You have a Brave and Noble heart... Milady Trina. We will press your case with the authorities and trust to the power of truth, while you reside under Bishop d'Bear's sanctuary here. Fear not... have faith that Truth and Honor are stronger than Lies and Avarice."

Trinia folds into Ashe's embrace and the tears flow. She raises her face to his, smiles, and kisses him chastely on the cheek.

"Your heart is pure and true..." she whispers. "With your protection I feel safe, whatever transpires."

Una rolls her eyes and grunts something incomprehensible.

"All right. Who's going with me?"

Ashe trembles in the young woman's embrace... the touch of her lips piercing his heart with their tenderness. Ashe has 'escorted' many lovely young women of court, mostly not intimately either... but none have ever captured his heart so thoroughly with just a simple touch. His mind ponders ending his courtly profession... for only one remarkable woman's - TRUE tender, love and affection!

The young knight closes his eyes and rests his cheek against her forehead drinking in the warmth of her embrace, and for once... Ashe curses his metal armor from a desire to better feel her womanly softness pressed against him. He makes up for it with a tightening embrace of more than affection. When she does not shy away his heart races with joy.

It is not often that Ashe has felt the warm sunny light of love shine upon his heart and he whispers to Trina his eyes watering slightly, "... with all my heart ~ dearest Trina, I Promise, I will protect you and seek your heart's joy, though my life be forfeit! Sweet Trina, I hope... you will let me see you again... my heart longs for your sunshine."

Gently he wipes her tears away with his thumb... cradling her in his lovingly fierce embrace...

The Grey Knight... at last... finds a light of his own to light his world and shed its warm glow upon his gloomy life.
Ashe holds Trina but a few ecstatic moments more... before duty and decorum force him to release her.

He gently de-cloaks Trina of his garment fastening it to his shoulders once again and strides over to his comrades. His expression still a-glow with a heart filled with joy... his frosty eyes smoldering with emotion... and something... new...

He looks up... seemingly out of touch for a moment with Una's question... then blinks coming out of his reverie... "uhm... oh... yes... the Marshall! We could all go... and simply be ready to assist each other should a hasty escape be warranted. Someone else could do the speaking... or I could stay here if that is everyone's wish..."

His eyes flash a look over at Trina.

As good and solid as the Lady of the dead's clergy may be, Miss Sabor has some VERYpowerful people who want her dead. You should stay here with her Ashe. Keep her safe until we have a chance to see the Marshall. We might need to 'embellish' the story a little, anyway....The rest of us can go see Marshall Kroft and explain what is happening. Ready when you are Una.

Ashe's eyes sparkle with inner joy at his friend's... polite suggestion and simply nods in acceptance stepping back.

"I'll await your return..."

By the time the party informs the Bishop of their decision, she has already written out her statement regarding Trinia's innocence and begs just a few minutes for her scribe to make a fair copy for whoever is going to see Field Marshal Kroft. She arranges for Trinia to be given a postulant's robe and space in the female dormitory, but says that if Ashe wishes to remain, the pair of them may sit for a while in the cloister - there is a quiet nook beside the scriptorium where they should pass unnoticed.

Is anyone else staying, or will the rest of the group go see Kroft?

It is raining quite hard outside.

Hytogg will journey to see the Marshall, again using his magical acumen to keep drying himself.

Mainly to escape from these recurring visions of Ashe on the cover of a romance novel with his long hair blowing in the wind, and Triana on her knees at his side, reaching up to him with adoration in her eyes. :-)

don't forget shirtless

"A nook for the nookie," Shakhan grins quietly at the retreating back of the paladin, out of his earshot. "If the rumors are true about the arteest you'll have a ball of a time pshahaha"

LOL! You're just jealous! :)

You think poor Trinia has ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?

Hey, the gameplay is linked to the campaign! Now, if only it would show up on my list of campaigns. Ohhh, it is now. Cool!

Una grins infectiously at Shakhan's jest. "If he marries her, I hope they don't have a kid and name him Ashtray."

Got an apologetic e-mail from the webmaster this morning, it seems that we have been sorted out at last - he'd been busy with behind the scenes coding!

OK - so party straight to see Kroft, yes? Apart from Ashe & Trinia, of course.

Where's Majenko? Chatterbeak I assume is going with Varrel.

Anyone doing anything else or shall we move on to the interview with the Field Marshal?

The Amethyst-colored dragon perched upon one of the Gothic flying buttresses within the fortress/temple and watched with some curiosity the tender embrace of Ashe and Trina casting his gaze between the couple and the rest of Ashe's companions... trying to make sense of the 'courting' decorum of humanoids... and not really making much sense of the whole affair.

Yet Ashe was not singing and preening his scales and wings to show off their vibrant color... hmmm... humanoids did not have scales or wings to show off to a potential mate... as Majenko would do...

Nor was Ashe taking Trina to his nest to show his certainly neatly arranged nest and horde... scattered as it was...

{So confusing!}

So Majenko watched briefly as Ashe and Trina took a seat in the private niche and talked softly - eyes intently looked upon each other and expressions ... strange ....

Majenko had real trouble reading the multitudinous array of expressions humanoids made... no proper tail twitches or wing fluttering or even subtle scale color changes to read... that all dragons used and clearly understood.

He got bored quickly. Even flying in the heavy rain would hopefully be more interesting...

Thinking at Ashe, {I'll go with Chatterbox and see what the others do... when they talk with the Kroft.}

Swiftly he took flight catching up with the party following along fluttering excitedly in the air above them... quiet... but eager to do and see something interesting...

Straight to the marshall is good for me.

"

To the Marshall then.

OK. By the time you reach the Citadel you are all soaked (prestidigitation aside...). The poor fellow on duty at the gate doesn't look much better off, and he looks very agitated and nervous as well as wet. Recognising you, he grants you entry, looking around nervously all the time. Inside, there is mud and water everywhere and assorted Guards standing around looking worried.

Una can feel the stress in the air. She takes on a commanding presence and turns to one of the guards.

"What's happened? Speak up, man."

Intimidate
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21

Where is the Marshall?

The guard, a lanky fellow with ginger hair escaping from his helmet to straggle in the damp, explains, "One of those Shoanti kids went and got himself killed, and now the rest of them are all worked up — if it's not one riot about to erupt, it's another! Field Marshal Kroft's in her office now, trying to talk some sense into the Shoanti ambassador — in fact, she mentioned that she's looking for you all to help with the situation. Just as well you came in, as nobody knew where you were. But where's Sir Asherick... he's all right, I trust?"

Meanwhile, in the cloisers...

It's a bit wet there too. But Ashe and Trinia find a sheltered corner to sit. An acolyte brings them some hot soup - "The Bishop thought you might like something..." - but otherwise you are left to your own devices.

Ashe thanks the acolyte for the Bishop's kindness. Considering that there was no real crisis this morning Ashe did not settle upon preparing a miracle of IOMEDAE's blessing in mind for the day with his hour's morning meditation. He pardons himself to Trina and settles into a quiet prayer for about 10 minutes as she eats her soup. When done her fills his spell slot with a Endure Elements miracle.

He tells Trina he is going to cast a spell for her benefit asking permission first... then casts the miracle upon her to keep her warm from the damp chill. For himself Ashe trusts to the bishop's soup and his own Endurance to weather the chill pulling his cloak about himself... and Trina affectionately.

Ashe opens conversation with Trina about her life, family, friends and her profession... sharing the same information with her about his own. It is indeed just light conversation to pass the time and turn her mind away from her troubles... as well as learn a bit more about her... sharing the same in turn.

... Besides the close intimacy of their huddling for warmth in the austere Temple/Fortress Ashe is the perfect gentleman letting human feeling and interest in another be his only courting. For now...

......

Meanwhile at the Citadel, Mejenko perches upon a merlon on the keep's walls watching and listening to the interchange following silently and occasionally preening his leathery wings and scales.

Varrel looks at the guard, actually relieved. Another pressing matter should take some focus off the fact they had secured Trinia, yet failed to deliver her.

We will see her at once then

"There's no time when we're not coming to the rescue of this city." Shakhan takes account of himself in a vague reflection on his shield. "You think I'll look good as a statue?"

Not good idea, Crackerman. Chatterbeak sees what stupid pigeons to to staties. Crackerman would not like it. Maybe city can better thank Crackerman with free booze. Crackerman, will share yes?

Cressida Kroft is not alone when you are shown into her office — with her is a tall, rail-thin Shoanti man of 60 winters. He leans heavily on a walking stick, the polished femur of some giant beast crowned with a firepelt cougar's skull. He wears a shirt decorated with countless jangling animal bones, many painstakingly scrawled with dozens of tiny symbols and glyphs. A bearskin cloak is draped about his bony shoulders, and warpaint in the shape of a skull decorates his face. The Shoanti's eyes are milky as if he were blind, and a regal red-feathered razor crow is perched on his shoulder.

"Sit," says the Field Marshal without ado. "This is Thousand Bones, a Way-Keeper for the Skoan-Quah, the Clan of the Skull."

He regards you impassively while Cressida introduces him, giving a brief nod.

"As you probably know," she continues, "Tensions between Korvosa and the Shoanti have existed since the city's foundation some 300 years ago, when Chelish colonists attacked and defeated the Shoanti tribes who dwelt in the region destined to become the largest city in Varisia. Forced to retreat and relocate into the inhospitable Cinderlands northeast of Korvosa, the Shoanti persevered and even flourished, and many among them preach that the time to take back their ancestral homeland is nigh. Yet in Korvosa itself, the Shoanti seek a more peaceful accord. Led by Thousand Bones, a visionary shaman if ever I saw one, a large group of Shoanti have been in talks with the Korvosan government for years now, hoping to find a way their two
people can coexist in peace.

"Thousand Bones's mission is anything but easy. A large number of Korvosa's citizens are prejudiced against the Shoanti and see them as little more than violent barbarians. Curbing and moderating the violence between these racists and the quick-to-anger Shoanti who dwell in and near Korvosa is a constant battle for all those who'd prefer peace. Thousand Bones came here today, his patience having reached its limit when one of his grandsons, a young warrior named Gaekhen, was
murdered by a mob that uses the unrest in Korvosa as a feeble excuse for misplaced vigilantism."

She turns and gestures to Thousand Bones. The old shaman speaks with a deep voice, his words carefully chosen but delivered with a barely restrained anger.

"My people have worked hard to understand yours, yet it seems each day we see new examples of how your people work just as hard to foster old hatreds. My grandson is dead, beaten to death by cowards in your city street. I do not blame you, yet still Gaekhen is dead, and my son and his kin are not so forgiving as I. They wish to return to the Skoan-Quah in the Cinderlands, to join with the Sklar-Quah and rally to war against Korvosa. This would be disastrous, for both our peoples. Amends must be made.

"Our ways are not as yours. If a body does not go whole to the fires of the gods, the smoke of a warrior's spirit cannot rise to the Great Sky. If I could send Gaekhen's body to the Great Sky with honour and dignity, his father and brothers would listen to me and stay their wrath — the talks of peace between my people and yours can continue. But he was not just murdered. His body was taken from the scene of his death, sold by a peddler of corpses to a necromancer named Rolth, a criminal to both our people. I have spoken with the spirits, and they have revealed to me that Gaekhen's body has been taken to a place below your boneyard, a place the spirits call the Dead Warrens.

"With this knowledge, I could surely lead a group of my finest warriors into your boneyard to retrieve Gaekhen's body, but this would be seen as an act of aggression by your people. No, it falls to you to make amends for what has been done. You must bring me Gaekhen's body, lest we be forced to recover him ourselves. And although it pains my heart to say it — we will not be gentle if it comes to this."

With that he rises, nods curtly to Cressida and leaves the room not quite slamming the door behind him.

"You must forgive him," Cressida says. "Whilst there are two sides to every quarrel, such mishandling of the boy's remains is not acceptable. I'd normally ask the Church of Pharasma to deal with the matter, but you folks have proven valuable to be of late... can you help?"

Una looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Ah... speaking of the Church of Pharasma. They are currently holding the girl you sent us to find. I think we can arrange to resolve the issue for the Shoanti if you can ensure that the girl receives an impartial trial. With the evidence already gathered by the Church of Pharasma, I do not think you will have further reason to hold her."

Specifically, Marshall, she has been questioned by the Bishop under a discern lies spell and her answers only infer innocence. Given the circumstances and her 'accuser, it would probably be best if she remain under the churches care. Varrel leaves the rest unspoken.
We can't have her commiting suicide as well.

And, of course, I'll provide whatever aid I can. I take it from Thousand Bones tone it would be most prudent to leave for the boneyard today?

continuedThough I admit, both myself and perhaps the Magnificent Hytogg would prefer a day to prepare appropriate spells for going to the Boneyard. Perhaps even a trip to the Acadamae if possible. Finally, do you have any news on the spider king? Has he been found guilty of his crimes and executed?

The Field Marshal listens intently to what you have to say. She looks tireder than ever.

"It would be most appreciated if you could attend to the matter of the Shoanti corpse in a timely manner... as for that painter woman... you have located her, you say? In the hands of the Church of Pharasma? I would not have thought of looking there. And they say that she is not guilty of the King's murder?"

She pauses, rubbing her eyes.

"The Spider King's trial has been set for next week. So has that of Verkaskerkin. The courthouse will be busy..."

Majenko follows the heroes in and remains silent but restless fluttering from one perch to another.

Mostly trying to counts the many little skulls on 'Thousand-Bones' regalia.

When Marshal Kroft mentions Trina his thought chime in, {"Yes, Yes... heroes found innocent lovely-eyed Trina! Marshal give shiny's for heroes horde like she promised?"}

"Good thinking there, Chattersqueek," Shakhan nods, "you'll be welcome to some."

After hearing the plight of the Shoanti elder, he nods wordlessly and gravely to Thousand-Bones. He may be a violent man, but Shakhan understood that the dead needed to be afforded with dignity.

Varrel seethes at the delay.
Still there is no retribution on the man. And this city is trying to kill an innocent woman...

The whole thing was hugely dissapointing. Perhaps this city was more like Cjeliax than he had been led to believe.
The timing was innapropriate, but Varrel was no longer forced to keep his thoughts silent.
Marshall, has it always been this way here? What was the city like before the Chelish queen took power?

An idea was starting to form in Varrel's head. One about smaller injustices and much, much greater ones. Chatterbeak even twitches at the intense emotional state he was in, but to the birds credit, he was keeping silent. He would speak to Una and Shaktan about it later.

"Given my position with the Watch," Cressida says to Varrel, "I have always seen the underbelly of Korvosa rather than its more civilised side. But things seem to be getting worse... self-serving greed and neglect by those in power of their duty of care towards those that they rule."

"So, what can you tell me about the painter woman and her dealings with the Church? As I said, I would not have thought to seek her there."

She looked at Majenko, and pointed to the back of a substantial chair. "Perch there, if you please, pseudodragon. You're making me dizzy, flapping around like that!"

Majenko flutters about a few more seconds before settling upon a perch on the back of the heavy chair. His stingered tail wraps around the chair-back holding his balance as he proudly positions himself, wings spread he takes a posse. His boiled leather barding plates rustling slightly as he shifts his weight. The buckles on his adventurer's belt and armor shining in the dim office candle-light. Something that Ashe made sure of considering Majenko's love of 'shiny things'...

Majenko's telepathic words chime in, {"Big city of man beings full of mean people..."} he casts a unreadable gaze Una's direction but continues {"... but Trina is not mean and is no liar... Cleric d'Bear said Goddess says so! Show letter elf... show, show!!}

Oh, yes. The letter. Marshall this was penned by the Bishop in our presence reguarding Miss Sabor's volentary submission to Divine interrogation. Given the danger in the streets and the sactuary offered within the church, we felt it acceptable to leave her tjere where the mob will not find her and she has protections against , as you say, self serving people in power'.

"Thank you," said Kroft, taking the letter and scanning it.

"That satisfies me, but I am not so sure that it will do for Her Majesty... It will be best, I think, that we keep her whereabouts secret for the time being. I shall send to Bishop d'Bear advising her thusly. You have done well, and earned your reward... but I do need you to seek out the remains of this Shoanti boy as a matter of some urgency. Will you undertake this task?"

I am willing, field Marshall. Majenko was forward, but I too must ask about the reward for finding Miss Sabor. These tasks we complete are my sole income and quite a bit goes on simply equipping for the next job as we will need to do for this task in the boneyard. Going unprepared would be ill advised, so a stop for supplies and to retrieve Sir Whiteplume and we should be set. Are there any particular known hazards we should prepare for?.

Varrel stops and looks apologetically to his companions, especially Una, realising he was doing all the talking. He hoped he didn't sound like Ashe at that moment. But he had to admit to himself that he'd remained a silent servant so long that it felt good to talk, even a bit too much. Was his familiar having an effect on him?

"Of course Hytogg the Magnificent never shirks his civic duty".

"If the remains can be found at the Gray Cathedral, we'll find them."

She turns to the Shoanti leader.

"Will his spirit be at rest? Or could there be some necromantic interference? I ask, because I do not know your ways, and if there is that danger, we would be well advised to know of it."

The Soanti leader, Thousand Bones, stomped out of the Field Marshal's office a while back, Una. You may be able to find him somewhere in the Citadel...

"Yes, Varrel... you have earned, and may have, the reward promised for finding Miss Sabor. Moreover, if you are short of equipment you may take anything you need from the Guard armoury."

Kroft gets up and unlocks a cabinet, taking out a large bag that clinks.

"Here you are, a thousand gold, was it not? As for your question, Una, I cannot answer that. There are some things I can tell you, however, about the necromancer responsible for this outrage, and what I know about the Dead Warrens, and what Thousand Bones said about the missing boy."

She sits down again.

"Firstly, the necromancer. He's long been a thorn in my side. A failed Academae student, Rolth's a monster of a man who was expelled after the true nature of his experiments were revealed. He was butchering vagrants, stray animals, and anything else he could get his hands on to try to build some sort of golem from their collected parts. The Academae didn't press charges because it didn't want to cause a scene — it just quietly expelled him and the man's been trouble ever since. We suspect he's responsible for nearly a dozen slayings, each involving mutilation to the body, but to date we haven't been able to find him or locate his lair. He might or might not be in the Dead Warrens, but anything you can find there that could lead to his arrest would be greatly appreciated.

"As to the Dead Warrens themselves, Korvosa's Gray District is riddled with underground chambers, some of them burrowed by ghouls or other monsters, others remnants of ancient Shoanti burial grounds. Some of these warrens are patrolled and kept clear of monsters by the church of Pharasma, yet the Gray District is a large place and the tunnels below are vast and tangled. The Pharasmen focus on containing the problems with undead and necromancers, but as soon as they wipe out one, it seems as if two are ready to spring up in its place. The problem's particularly vexing in Potter's Ward, where the bodies of the poor and homeless are buried. According to Thousand Bones, the Dead Warrens were one of his people's burial vaults, chambers that lie under Potter's Ward.

"We have the man who sold Gaekhen's body to Rolth in custody: a simpleton named Elkaris. He spilled everything when we told him what was going on and how much trouble he was in — in any event, Elkaris says he delivered the body via wheelbarrow to a partially collapsed mausoleum deep in Potter's Ward, near the southern edge. A toppled and headless statue of a sword-wielding gargoyle lay in the dirt near the mausoleum's entrance — he was told to leave the body behind the gargoyle. This location matches where Thousand Bones believes the Shoanti burial grounds called the Dead Warrens used to be located, so that's the best place to start the search. Your friends at the Cathedral may know a little more, but I don't think it is one of the places which they patrol on a regular basis.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Okay, 200 gold apiece. Doesn't go very far. We'll see what we can do.