Vanderoff reads the card and looks around suspiciously. The gruff dwarf tucks it away with all the other ephemera that he has collected while searching for his sister. Very queer, I don't like it.. but I can't risk not taking a chance to find Erriga, Torag bless her.
** spoiler omitted **
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James, who had just spent a long day in the Market going over the scene where he lost his daughter for the seventh time, was rather tired when he returned home. The lack of news that he brought was of little comfort to his son or his sister-in-law, but both gave him, in their own ways, their confidence in his ability to find Susan. From Gregory, his eight year old son, James got a big hug when he opened the door to his two story home. The kid had been very withdrawn since the lost of his sister, so the hug certainly made James feel better. From his sister-in-law, James earned some words of comfort and a vote of confidence in his abilities before she took hold of Gregory and led the young boy inside.
Unfortunately, neither really made the situation seem any less bleak. As James made his way into the small dining room, where a table covered in papers rest, he unhooked his sword belts and undid the strapping's of his shield. For a moment he considered taking off his armor as well but laziness won out in the end and he simply sat down. The man breathed a heavy sigh as he, for a moment, simply relaxed. Then he was back to work. Almost immediately he reached for his notebook, where he kept anything he considered truly important to his investigation. Just as he picked it up he noticed something odd fall off of it. A card, specifically a Harrow card. He inspected the artwork on the front for a few minutes before he curiously turned it over to spot the message on the back. In moments, he was standing up, knocking his chair to the floor behind him as he did. At the top of his voice he called up the stairs, "Laria, I've got a lead I need to follow so I'm going out tonight. Make sure Gregory gets to bed on time."
James immediately started re-equiping himself as soft footsteps coming from the stairs heralded Laria's descent. Just as James reached the front door she asked, "What's going on James? Did you figure something out?"
James stopped short of opening the door and looked over his shoulder to the elven woman. "I don't know what I've got, but right now I'm desperate. If anything happens to me, you know what to do."
"You'd better make sure nothing happens James." Laria replied, her tone a tad hard, "You will come back. And one day, very soon, you'll be bringing Susan home with you."
James turned back to the door to hide his features from Laria. After a moments pause he nodded, opened the door and walked out. He immediately set out for 3 Lancet Street.
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By the time James arrived at the place it was nearly sunset. For a moment he considered waiting outside to see if others would arrive soon as the note said, but the thought of delaying any longer while his daughter was in the hands Gaedren caused a feeling of rage to sweep over him. James took a moment to calm himself down, then walked up to the door of the place and knocked hard. After knocking three times he would rest his hand on the hilt of his blade and take a step back, ready to draw it at a moments notice. The heavy shield strapped to his other arm weighed it down a little, but he was more then used to carrying it around and found the weight comforting. It took was ready to intercede should anything unwelcome happen when the door opened. If it opened.
Perception:
James is too focused on the door at the moment to notice anything else going on around him. If he were less tired he might think an ambush more likely to come from behind.
The door opens after a few moments, although noone is behind it. Inside the small home is a cozy chamber filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice. The haze comes from several incense sticks smoldering in wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly-winged elves. The smoke itself seems to soften edges and gives the room a dream-like feel. The walls are draped with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black-skulled beast juggling men's hearts, another showing a pair of angels dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on the far wall depicts a tall hooded figure shrouded in mist, a flaming sword held in skeletal hand. Several brightly-colored rugs cover the floor, but the room's only furnishings are a wooden table covered by a bright red throwcloth and several elegant tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue cloth sits under the table.
Also, a simple note, weighed down by a stone paperweight is in the middle of the table. The note is in the same script as your card and it reads, "Thank you for coming. I had to step out for a bit, but shall return shortly. Please, have a seat while you wait. The basket under the table contains bread and drink for you."
When the door opens, James spends several seconds simply waiting in front of it. It only now occurs to him to actually look around him. When nothing leaps out at him, from either the home or from outside, he proceeds cautiously forward into the room. His steps are slow, measured and careful. His hand remains on his hilt, but it appears to be resting atop in a habitual fashion rather then in any sort of readiness. The smoke, rather then relaxing James, makes him feel all the more worried. The dulled edges, especially to his tired and worried mind, made him feel exposed and vulnerable. The darkly lit room didn't really help matters, nor did the tapestries along the walls. His eyes scanned them each slowly and his steps brought him haltingly forward.
Perhaps a minute in, James finally began to relax a little. There was no ambush waiting for him, it seemed. Nothing from Gaedrenn to surprise him. He walked over to the table and reached out to take the note, gently moving the stone atop it aside so as to not ruin the paper beneath. It seemed odd that the person would leave their home open like this, but it was possible that they were waiting for all of the 'special' people to arrive before coming in. James wasn't the only one who had to be cautious, it seemed. The food made his stomach grumble, but James ignored it and grabbed hold of one of the chairs instead. He dragged it to one of the corners of the room where he could survey the whole room and the door, while also keeping him out of sight of anyone walking directly through the doorway.
Vanderoff begins strapping on his armor and gathering his gear. Don't want to caught unprepared, who knows what I'm dealing with.
He grabs his warhammer and crossbow, checking the crossbows string and counting his bolts. Better to be done with this, time could be of the essence if this is true.
He finishes packing his gear, grabbing his buckler as he walks out the door. He stops to remember where Lancet Street is and turns and heads out into the streets. When arrives at 3 Lancet Street, he pauses for a moment and then bangs on the door.
"The door is open." James calls out, his hand still rest on the hilt of his sword despite his sitting position. He has readjusted the scabbard to make it easier to draw in his current spot. The moment the dwarf entered entered, James would look him over quickly, then nod to the table and the note on it.
Also, a simple note, weighed down by a stone paperweight is in the middle of the table. The note is in the same script as your card.
Silas stares at the strange card for a moment, instincts warring. He does need the help afterall. For all his street upbringing he has only the vaguest of ideas where to begin the hunt for the drug dealer. On the otherhand... Well the timing was at least as suspicious as the delivery method. Silas flips the card over again. Harrow. He knows next to nothing about these cards. Had considered them a fortuneteller's prop. Still could be. On a whim Silas cuts his own deck of regular playing cards. Joker.
Well why not? Serendipity seems to be ruling my life lately. Silas tugged thoughtfully on a strap of his leather armor. You could hardly see the dead man's blood anymore. And she certainly seems to be doing more with it than I was.
-Some time later-
As Silas approaches the house, he sees a short stocky shape going in the front door. Silas slows his pace a bit, reconsidering. For all of his new found clarity of mind, he isn't sure this makes sense. Growing up around the docks hadn't left him with much trust. And yet here he is walking into what is at best a house full of strangers and at worst... Well it would be in Gaedren's interests to deal with potential troublemakers before they became a problem.
Still, the restless energy that had propelled him from a drug induced stupor tugged him towards the door. A quick shrug and Silas opens the door and steps quickly inside. A minor rudeness to pay back whoever had planted that card amongst his possessions.
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Those in the room get their first good look at Silas (or first swing if they're jumpy enough). He's a dark, scrawny lad clad in leather armor too fine for the rags he wears beneath it. A quarterstaff is held in one hand, angled jauntily over his shoulder. His black hair is long and ratty and currently pulled back in a high ponytail. He has the look of one just risen from a sickbed or someone aged prematurely by hard living. His skin is tan and weathered, pulled tight on the bones as if he's only a few meals ahead of starvation. For all this, a reckless grin spreads across his face and his eyes glitter as he regards the room.
James watches each in turn enter the building, his eyes studying them all curiously. His tired mind worked out then none of them were likely to be the host. He nods his head in the direction of the woman who had entered and started helping herself to the bread. "James." His name was all he would offer at this point as he resisted the urge to question the others here. It was a strong urge and normally he wouldn't bother, but he needed the information he might get here too much to rock the boat.
To any who bothered to look at his shadowy corner, James appeared to be a tall man with an average frame layered with muscle. He wore the standard guards uniform, sans the actual Guard colors. His armor was well taken care of, a simple chain shirt with an armored skirt attached for added protection, and his shield only had a few minor nicks in it. Unlike his equipment, however, James was not nearly so well taken care of. He looked tired, with the permanent five o'clock shadow he seemed to have seeming a bit more ragged and his medium length brown hair a mess. His eyes were a little sunken in and there were bags under them, probably from a lack of sleep.
When yet another person entered, James began to wonder exactly why he was here. They didn't look or sound like a particularly useful bunch for tracking down a man like Gaedren so far. Maybe the host saw something different, but James had his doubts. He just hoped the information he got here was useful.
Vanderoff stomps around the room studying the tapestries on the wall, an air of impatience about him. He occasionally gives a sidelong glance at the other people in the room. As the others start introducing themselves to each other, he turns to the table. The names Vanderoff, cleric of almighty Torag. My friends call me Van, you can address me as Vanderoff. So I'm guessing we all got the same queer card?
Pengon watches the others enter the building that he had been told to enter. This CAN'T be a coincidence the thought. He comes out of the shadows and puts his bow away, takes one last look around, and crosses the street. Coming to the open door, he enters and shuts it. I am guessing you all got these cards too? Holding a Harrow card in his hand, you see a elf in leather armor carrying a bow and a large flail. His black hair is off his face enough that you can make out several old scars on his cheeks. Parts of his exposed forearms also show signs of scars that have long existed. My name is Pengon, and I think we are here for the same reason. Where is our host?
Silas takes in the varied people crowding into the small room. What a crew. Still... something to be said for variety. The room is less interesting, if cozy enough. Silas takes an immediate dislike to the incense. He prefers dreams to stay out of his waking hours these days.
People introduce themselves and questions start flowing. Cards for everyone it seems. Silas flicks his card out with a flourish, holding it up between index and middle finger.
Aye, I was dealt into this strange game as well. An odd hand for our host, but I'm more curious as to the stakes. My card implied Gaedren's life in the pot.
Silas peers at the strangers, taking in reactions to the mention of Gaedren's name as he vanishes the card again. Any responses of anger and vengeance are greeted with a fierce grin. Then with a shrug Silas moves to the table and helps himself to the bread and drink, leaving his quarterstaff leaning against the back of a chair. He drops into the seat and takes a long drink from his cup. Only after he's started eating does he read the note on the table.
James hand involuntarily tightens on the hilt of his sword momentarily at the mention, but he forces himself to relax. He speaks slowly, his voice a little rough and a little weary, though he seems too be waking up, as it were. "I don't care about vengeance. He has someone important to me. I'm going to get her back."
The door comes open at this point, the incense smoke swirling momentarily around the entrance. A second later you can clearly see an attractive Varisian woman, middle-aged with long hair and a welcoming smile. As she approaches table, she pulls out a deck of cards. The cards—the ones you manage to glimpse—look like the Harrow cards you received.
"My apologies for being late to my own meeting."
She sits down in the last remaining seat and idly shuffles her cards. Her fingers flit between the cards with obvious skill. Some of the cards, you'd swear, were floating above the table and passing through each other at times.
"Thank you for coming, my friends, and for putting up with my unconventional means of contacting you. I have reason to remain hidden, you see—a terrible man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This is a man you know, for each of you has been wronged in a terrible way by him. I speak, of course, of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched only by his gift for avoiding reprisal. You see, a year ago, his thieves stole this, my Harrow deck, from me. It is important to me, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, and also my sole means of support. When pickpockets stole it, my son, Eran, tracked them down. The thieves were in the employ of Gaedren Lamm, and in reward for finding them, Gaedren murdered my son."
She pauses for a moment as a sad, wistful look crosses her face. She takes a visible breath and continues...
"I sought help from the Guard, but they turned me away." She nods so briefly in James' direction, "And so I asked around. I paid bribes. I consulted my Harrow deck for advice. And recently, I was rewarded—I found out where Gaedren dwells. He can be found in an old fishery north of here at Westpier 17, where he trains his abducted children to be pickpockets and counts his stolen treasures."
This time, she stares at Vanderhoff and James in turn. She looks back over the group and almost pleads...
"And now, I need your help. I cannot hope to face this man on my own, and the Guard moves so slowly that if I were to go to them, Gaedren would certainly know of their coming well in advance. Even if they did arrest him—what guarantee have I that he would be punished? This criminal has evaded the law for decades. But you know of these frustrations as well, for word on the street has it that Gaedren has wronged each of you, too. So there we are. It is time for him to pay."
Domina finishes eating. "You've been very forthcoming, I would think this a trap except I know how society works in this city. As I want revenge as well I won't haggle over payment per se, although I do look forward you your continued goodwill and tutelage."
Domina holds up her card. "Speaking of which, since you sent this with your message would you be willing to teach me its meaning?"
Silas shakes his head as the woman shuffles the deck. Don't bet against this one. Likely that's good advice for more than just card games. He finishes his meal as she explains her situation. A moving, if unnecessary speech.
Seems a forgone conclusion, mistress. You've brought before you five people with reason to seek out Gaedren Lamm and his wayward flock. Silas glances at James. Some with very personal reasons indeed.
Still, I'll let the others speak for themselves. I'm in.
With that Silas leans back in the chair, arms crossed. He watches her hands continue to shuffle the deck as others respond.
Old fishery north of here at Westpier 17 kept running through Pengon's head as he planned his attack. Maybe these others could be a usefull distraction.
All I need is Gaedren Lamm's head to come into view, he said as he slamms him bow on the table, and he's a dead man. I'm in.
James had suffered the same lack of a response from the guard, despite being one of them. When the woman stared at him after mentioning such he briefly look away, ashamed of the fact that he had once believed he could trust the guard completely. It snaps back though when she gives him he location and, with a look, pretty much tells him that's where he can find his daughter. James is already standing up as the others start to pledge there aid in this manner. "Let's go then. The more time we waste, the more likely it is that worm will slip away again."
James from the group around him to the woman and asks, "Is there anything else we need to know before leaving? Any information on numbers or spotters on the outside we should be wary of?"
The dwarf smacks his hand on his leg. By the gods, what are standing here for, let's go and get this slime and our kin back. Van begins pacing the room impatiently, checking his gear and looking to their host.
The fortune teller smiles widely, "I can see indeed why Fate has landed her finger on each of you. It would ill suit you or me to have you confront this wretch without some information. Please, allow me the pleasure of using my beloved Harrow deck for you. Free of charge of course."
As you reach to give your card back to the fortune teller you notice that it strangely isn't where you left it. You catch a glimpse of the card while she is shuffling and a gleam in her eye.
"Please, each of you pick a card."
I don't see what is matters, or how this is going to help.
Pengon can't believe that he is actually playing along with this and picks a card at random.
"Ahhh, young Elf, you are hastier than your kind generally are. Perhaps it is because of The Juggler you drew. Fate is on your side and this may have made you reckless. Or perhaps you cannot help but juggle your paranoia and trust."
James hesitates, wanting to simply leap into action, but the woman had proven herself to be a valuable source of information already. If he went without every scrap of knowledge he had and failed, he would never forgive himself. With a heavy sigh, James stepped forward and reach out to take a card. "Thank you for your help, whatever your reasons."
"Yes, yes...The Locksmith. He holds the keys to a new destiny, and that is certainly what you search for, isn't it? And the city as well, a new destiny awaits."
She laughs in a high pitched voice, taking the card back from James.
"My reasons are purely selfish, but they align with all of yours. I am too weak to bring justice to Gaedren, and the Deck led me to you all."
"Bah, nonsense I say" grumbles the dwarf. We are wasting precious time, I'll play along if it means we can resume searching for Gaedren faster.
"My surly dwarf, you've The Dance in your hand. Perfect harmony, especially spiritually for you, is of the utmost importance, I think Torag would agree. Providing a shining example of lockstep will do you, this group, and the city a world of good."
"The impossible situation of The Demon's Lantern, my dear. Your questions will be answered by that most venerable of teachers...time. Keep your ambitions strong and burning, for the impossible situation you are in is but an echo of the larger. The cards tell me what I need, not necessarily what I understand."
She turns to Silas holding out the cards, "And you, my newly awakened friend?"
Bemused, Silas reaches out and plucks a card from the the offered fan.
The fortune teller winces as she pulls out the card, "My dear, unfortunate boy. The Avalanche, with it's unrelenting and unthinking disaster. But you already know of disaster, don't you? And certainly the unthinking part. Perhaps you're salvation from these things lies in preventing them from the city? Only time will tell."
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As she begins to lay down the cards in a 3 x 3 grid, her eyes roll back into her head and waves her hands in an almost dance above the cards. She flips over the first card in the upper left corner, "The Snakebite, usually meaning some poisonous powers or ideas, BUT...it is in the exact opposite alignment it should be. It is instead a great mental leap or discovery, something so momentous the repercussions will be felt throughout the city or even the world!"
Her eyes come back to the front and she pauses for a moment, "This Harrowing is mighty powerful. It has been many ages since I've felt portents this great come from the cards."
She flips over the middle left card, "The Mute Hag. Standing for blood pacts and daaaaark secrets. This one is almost in the right place, there must be a secret indeed to uncover."
She flips the bottom left card and gasps, "The Dance! Vanderhoff, this was your card and it is in partial alignment! It must be doubly important to achieve harmony. Something works to break the lockstep! Your sister! Yes, she must be alive at the moment.""
The top middle card revealed, she says "The Trumpet. Normally it is a declaration of power, of which there is no shortage at this table. However, it's partially out of alignment and must be suggesting that power is being sought for the sake of power and nothing else."
The true middle card slaps it's backside on the table and another gasp, "The Teamster!! There is...an outside force driving, pressuring. This force...it must be...stopped. I've not felt a warning this strongly ever!"
She pales at the sight of the middle lower card, "The Sickness. And it is fully aligned, NO! There will be disease of the body or of the soul. This must not be and the second in its row to be perfectly in place. This outside pressure seeks to sicken our bodies or minds!"
She is flipping faster now, the top right card a blur, "The Tyrant. This painful paternal influence is exactly out of alignment, just as portentous as those that are perfectly in. A dark influence...it will be overruled." She looks at each of you in place.
The right middle card and right bottom cards are flipped at almost the same time, "The Rabbit Prince and The Waxworks, both perfectly in alignment. The Rabbit Prince, capriciousness in combat, a battle will end swiftly and surprisingly. The Waxworks suggests helplessness and entropy. I think two of you are meant for this reading."
She sighs, sags, and sits down briefly. "These cards give momentous tidings. I am done. You each have a gift from me to aid your ambition against Gaedren. The Harrow cards will help you when you need it most."
James listens closely to all of the warnings the woman gave. In the end, despite the fact that he heard little that seemed to have to do with retrieving his daughter, it was hard to dismiss the woman's words as just rambling. She spoke as if each message she gave was of dire importance, and honestly seemed to believe that a few of the cards told of great danger. Whatever it was she had done, James still found himself anxious to leave. "Err, right. Thank you again I suppose."
And with that, James was walking out the door, not really bothering to check if the others were following him. He had an address. Now it was time to go there, find his daughter and take down anyone trying to stop him from taking her home. The fact that the dwarf seemed to have someone taken by the old thief made the situation all the more urgent. James hurried to the old fishery north of here at Westpier 17, his hopes of finding his daughter outweighing the fact that he was following the word of a fortune teller. "I'm coming Susan." He whispered to himself, "Just hold on."
Pengon watches James leave. I guess he's going now. If that's the plan, I'll see if I can take up a scouting position on higher ground. He checks one more time to make sure he has everything, then heads off to catch up with James. As he walks down the street, he starts running his fingers over the scars on his arm. Today, I get my vengeance.
Vanderoff follows the others out the door, nodding at the host on his way out. Aye, action, now let us see this thing done. Getting out in the streets, he calls to the others. See here now, if we be doing this thing together, let us figure some sort of tactic. Don't be rushing off headlong and announcing yerselves. I'll not let some fools ruin my chance at getting me dear Erriga back. We have the element of suprise at the moment.
Silas frowns at the dire warnings both personal and monumental. Each pronouncement had felt right somehow, in alignment with his own personal energy. He's still mulling over the possibilities when James storms out, the others rushing to catch him. As the dwarf shouts, Silas snaps out of this reverie and forces a grin onto his face.
We'll play the hand we're dealt, mistress. But don't blame me if I try to slip an ace or two up our sleeves.
He gives the fortuneteller a wink and stuffs an extra loaf of bread from her table into his pack. Then Silas slings the pack back over his shoulder, takes up his quarterstaff with a little spin and rushes out the door.
"I'm a guard of the Korvosan guard." James replies, not slowing his pace in the least when the others start catching up. "I've been in plenty of tough spots over the years, but I'm a little rusty at the moment. Still, I can hold my own. And I'll watch your back if you'll watch mine."
Don't be surprised when someone you're fighting takes an arrow to the throat. Pengon says arrogantly and takes a look back to see if anyone he doesn't know is following. It has been a few years since I've seen Gaedren. Does anyone know how strong he has become?
I'm... me. Silas waves a hand dismissively, but it's clear from his expression that this is entirely false modesty. Don't know much about formal fighting, but I can introduce a quarterstaff to the back of a head smartly enough.
And I suppose I might have a way with locks and ropes and such. Silas shrugs.
As for Gaedren...
When they finally reach the fishery James looks briefly to the others. It's obvious that he wants to get moving right there and then, but the dwarf had a point earlier about rushing off. If they missed this chance now it could mean losing any chance of finding his daughter. He looks back to the building for a moment before taking a deep breath to calm himself, then asks aloud, "Is anyone good at sneaking around? Maybe see if they can learn anything? If so I suggest you go ahead and start. Otherwise, I say we knock down the front door and charge in, take anyone inside by surprise."
James raises an eyebrow at Ornelos, "What do you mean?" He asks, uncertain what the enchantress was saying.