The Curse of the Crimson Throne takes hold of Korvosa! In the shadow of an ailing king, a new ruler gathers power, sending shockwaves through a populace already plagued by unrest and pushing the largest city in Varisia to the brink of disaster.
In the face of anarchy, a new band of heroes gathers at the call of a mysterious patron. Strange magic and mysterious prophesies set them on the trail of a common foe — a path that draws them into a struggle to save the city from ruin. Amid the intrigues of kings and generals, heroes and thieves, it’s up to these new heroes to decide whether the rule of a new monarch will usher in a new age of glory or a reign of chaos....
As each of you go about your regular, day-to-day activities, you chance upon a curious card tucked away in some place it clearly has no business being, nor any way of having gotten there. On one side of the car is a painted image from the Harrow deck, on the other is scrawled a anonymous- yet compelling - invitation.
"I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
Perhaps you had forgotten that name. Perhaps not a day has gone by that you have not thought of Gaedren Lamm and his crimes against you. As sure as picking at a scab, this simple note has torn open a wound that never truly healed. In this time of great changes, only one thing is certain. You will answer this call. When you arrive at the address on Lancet Street, you find the door unlocked and a note pinned to the frame.
"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."
The cozy chamber within this small home is filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice. The haze comes from several sticks of incense smouldering 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 a 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.
Caedric enters the smoky room cautiously, looking around for the others that were supposed to be here. Seeing an empty room, he prowled around, using his dagger to lift tapestries away from the walls and looking behind them. He saw the basket under the table and snorted to himself That's what got me in trouble in the first place. You'll not catch me eating or drinking from another's hand again. He settles himself in a corner, back to the wall, where he can keep an eye on all the entrances and exits.
The room seems to grow warmer and more comfortable as you sit and breath deeply of the sweet incense in the air.
That's a D6, right? Do I roll a D6 additional as a Wild Die?
Despite the heady fumes wafting from the decorative wall sconces, you manage to keep your wits about you as you wait for your mysterious host to return.
Mirian lifted her head from the bar she sat slumped against. She winced as the sun hit her eyes and a headache started its full assault. So it was still morning. The wine hadn't worked. She had never been a good drinker but last night she didn't feel like she was good at anything. Daring another look Mirian opened her eyes and fumbled for the tankard, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the bartender. "Can't get much worse", she muttered to herself and took a swig to empty the mug, but instead of the remaining drops of wine she almost choked on a piece of paper. After coughing horribly and gasping for air she studied the note that's been passed into her tankard as she'd slept.
I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done.
Gaedren. Her hand unconscious reached for the scar underneath her rib as she read the name. It was actually the last time she drank. Disillusioned with the corruption and slackjawedness towards real crime, the inability to do good, that the city watch embodied Mirian and Aran, the only other officer she knew that cared, decided after a drunken stupor to tackle the small time crimelord Gaedren Lamm. With luck and fair bit of tenacity Mirian had escaped with a with a griveous knife wound. Aran was not so lucky. His body was found in the bay the following day, beaten almost beyond recognition. Mirian had gotten a verbal flogging for her conduct, and some poor homeless fellow had gotten framed for the assault. Gaedren had gone free. Free do continue his ill workings. That had been the last straw. If the city watch couldn't get the work done, she would. In a surge of youthful inspiration Mirian had decided that she would become the mark of justice that the city needed. Fix what the watch couldn't, strike where the watch wouldn't. That was almost two years ago.
She was inexperienced and unable to go after the bigger fish. The theives she had caught where the desperate souls that needed their prize more than their victims. Mirian also found that working as a vigilante did provide a steady source of income. Her life had become a steady fall downwards and last night had been the worst. Desperate and out of money she had keep the plunder from the pickpocked she caught, instead of trying to return it to its rightful owner. The positive side was that she found that she found her acts despicable. She tossed the majority of the haul into a beggars cup then headed towards the closest bar to empty out the rest of her pockets. She had heard that alchol is good for dulling the senses. If she couldn't feel, then she couldn't feel the guilt. Although now she knew that it wasn't true. She could feel all of it. Even worse than last night. This had to end. Perhaps Gaedren was the anwser.
Since her encounter with Lamm, Mirian had returned to his headquarters numerous times. Watching and waiting, but never able to goad herself into taking action. Could this be the time? The time that misarable bastard got what was coming to him. Mirian reached into her pocked, produced a coin and left it on the counter. Then she pulled the hood over her head and headed towards Lancet Street.
Reaching the adress Mirian knocked carefully on the door, after making sure that the entrance wasn't being watched. She waited for a second before entering.
The thick incense catches Mirian by surprise but she soon recovers with little more than a few coughs. Her eyes catches the man sitting in the corner. "Are you the one that gave me this note?", she asks.
The thick incense catches Mirian by surprise but she soon recovers with little more than a few coughs. Her eyes catches the man sitting in the corner. "Are you the one that gave me this note?", she asks.
Caedric scrambles up as the girl comes in, reaching for his dagger. When he sees the note in her hand, he relaxes slightly. Pulling his own note from his pouch, he shows it to her. "No, I got the same note you did, it said there'd be others. My names Caedric, who're you?"
Caedric's reaction startles Mirian as well, reaching for a weapon of her own. But as the stranger relaxes so does she. "I'm Mirian. Mirian Greyfeather", she says and pulls her hood back. The girl enters the room fully and takes a seat at the table. Seeing the note in the basket she scrambles through its contents in search for water. "I take it that you don't know who summoned you here. How did you get your note?"
Moments after Mirian enters the room, the door flies open again and a dark haired, unshaven man collapses into the room, sprawling across the collection of colorful rugs. The newcomer moans incoherently as he struggles to rise, his legs tangled in the long sword strapped to his waist. He smells of stale sweat and strong liquor.
Mirian had just started to relax in her chair as the newest member of the gathering came crashing in. The reflexes takes over and she finds herself standing in a defensive posture in no time. The fruit she had grabbed from the basket fell to the ground to add another tint on the already colorful rug. As the initial adrenaline surge expires Mirian's wineinduced headache gets kicked up into high gear and she can feel her belly threatening rebellion. The incense filled room didn't help.
When the worst of the headache is quieted into manageable levels Mirian has the chance to study the newcomer more thoroughly. The emblem on his armor identified the man as a member of the Korvosan city guard. She would recognize that symbol anywhere. She bends down to help the man to his feet. "Are you OK?"
The stranger allows Mirian to haul him to his feet. He staggers and clutches the table as the room spins around him in a whirl of garish tapestry.
"No... I'm not Ok..." For a moment, it look likes the man might be about to be sick, "I'm Grau."
"I got an invi... inva... gotta' card." he manages, digging inside his armour and producing another Harrow card from the same deck as your own, "Said to come here. Gonna' get Gaedren Lamm. Bastard took everything...."
He closes his eyes as another wave of (self-inflicted) nausea crashes over him.
"I don't feel so good, just going to sit here for a minute."
Lurching across the room, Grau sinks into a chair opposite Caedric. A few moments later, he begins to snore softly.
"I am..." Mirian starts to introduce herself after helping the guardsman to the chair but is cut short by his snoring. "... Mirian", she finishes. What am I doing here? What good did you think this would do? She bends down to pick up the fruit she dropped and places it idly on the table as she returns to her seat. "Whoever sent these notes has got some explaining to do when they get back here", she sighs and takes gulp of water to dull her headache.
"Yes and you are all due an explanation. My name is Zellara."
A dark haired woman enters the house and smiles at each of you in turn, even at Grau, who has begun to slide sideways off his chair. Her attire marks her as a Varisian fortune teller, attractive still despite her middle years.
“Thank you for coming, my friends, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you. I have reason to remain hidden, you see—a terrible man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This is a man you know, for he has done something terrible to each of you as well. I speak, of course, of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched only by his gift for avoiding reprisal. You see, 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 clears away the basket on the table and takes a seat. Producing a Harrow deck from about her person, she begins to shuffle. The cards are a blur, even the keenest eye would have trouble tracking their movement through her long, clever fingers, which are adorned by many rings. When next you check, the cards that summoned you to this address are gone from your possession, returned to the fortune teller's deck by some sorcery.
“I sought help from the Guard, but they turned me away. 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."
She motions for Caedric and Mirian to join her at the table. She spares a moment to smile sadly across at Grau Soldado, before continuing to speak, her voice husky and urgent.
“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 would I have 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.”
Before each of you, she places a card face down.
Zellara also places a card face down for Grau.
Mirian listens to Zellara's story. A rage mixed with sadness grows inside her as tale unfolds, and flashbacks to her own encounters with the vile thug. "What do you want from us?" she asks eyes still watching the floor.
"I am just an old fortune teller and my power is not without limits. I asked what I must do to see Gaedren bought low, the cards told me that if I could only bring the three of you together, justice would be served. All you would need from me was a nudge in the right direction."
Meeting her gaze, you see your own anger and misery reflected back at you in those dark, heavy-lidded eyes. Gaedren Lamm has wronged so many people, yourself included. The old rogue has been living on borrowed time since first he crossed you, perhaps you yourself hadn't realized that, until now.
"Lamm must pay for what he has done to me, what he has done to the three of you and the countless others that he has killed or maimed and then simply forgotten about over the years. His existence is a disease, a cancer thriving beneath the surface of this city's skin and it is past time the rot was cut away. Are your hands steady enough to wield the knife?"
Mirian reaches for the harrow card, and so she accepts. Of course she would. She had never been able to say no to someone in need, it just wasn't in her. It's what had gotten her to join the Korvosa City Guard. Ultimatly it was what had gotten her to quit as well, instead trying to don the cape of a masked avenger. An unsuccessful avenger. Perhaps this was her chance to do some real good. Lord knows that Gaedren didn't do anyone any good roaming free.
She looks at the harrow card and adresses Zellara. "I will get your heirloom back to you and I will see to it that Gaedren is brought to justice. I can't promise any more than that. I'm not a killer."
"Gaedren?!" The drunken man rouses with a start, falling from his chair with a crash. Clutching at one of the brocaded tapestries, he hauls himself back into a vaguely vertical position and peers blearily around the room as though expecting to see the old man standing there. His eyes settle on Mirian and he blinks slowly.
"Don't I know you...?" he wonders out loud - then winces as a stab of pain in his temple announces the imminent arrival of one bastard of a hangover. Fumbling at his belt, the disheveled fellow produces a battered flask and mutters something about the hair of the dog as he struggles with the stopper.
Stela hears the sound of voices inside and lets herself in. Three days she's been back in Korvosa. Three days of feeling her skin crawl with memories of the years she had spent here, a slave to a man named Gaedren Lamm. The few memories she had of that time were almost enough to make her weep. Almost. She could shed tears for her childhood when the man who destroyed it had paid.
That was the offer the temple had offered her. She would become a full fledged priestess of Calistria when she had honored the goddess in her three aspects. A simple prank played against a merchant in Magnimar had sufficed for trickery, and a night in the arms of a Varisian mercenary had sufficed for lust, but that left revenge. There were many she could take revenge on, for petty insults and offenses, but there was only one name she repeated every night in her prayers, and so she had come back to Korvosa.
The note had been wrapped around the blade of her rapier when she had drawn it this morning to practice. I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done.
It could be a trap, but the simple truth was that nobody in Korvosa would recognize her as the young girl who escaped when Lamm tried to sell her to a pimp in the old city. That had been six years ago, and she was very nearly a woman now. So she came to the house on Lancet Street and found an old gypsy, a drunken guardsman, and two others, a woman and a half-breed male.
"Are you the others mentioned in the note?" she asks, giving a graceful bow, and holding the note out. "I am Stela, My Lady's Sting."
"The times has come for Gaedren to pay for crimes." Zella answers, "Only you can decide the balance owed and how that debt must be settled."
I really need a map for this place.
Kimiko thinks as she wanders the streets of Korvosa. She meanders through the walkways occasionally asking passers by where Lancet street would be. Many of the folk would look at Kimiko's reptilian visage answer her question and all but run away.
Do all the people here treat outsiders with such disdain? I would have thought such a place would require some decorum and honour. I have a feeling that this is far the truth.
Such a strange note to bring her to the far reaches of town. Found inside the sheath of her Katana she found it as she was cleaning her blades this morning. Intrigued by the note and by the prospect of finding out more about this town for her Daimyo or at least that's the pretence she is going with. Kimiko actually recognized Gaedran's name, he had brought shame to her brother who visited Korvosa before. Accused of a crime he did not commit, her brother now lies in a prison wishing they had not confiscated his wakizashi so he could commit Seppuku. Kimiko saw this as a chance to clear her brother's name and restore his honour before he took matters into his own hands and restored it himself.
Eventually Kimiko found herself next to the household. She says to herself in Nagaji. Number 3.. right this must be the place. Kimiko knocks on the door then lets herself in. She bows when she passes the threshold.
"Greetings my name is Fujiwara Kimiko, there is no need to be formal just Kimiko will be fine." She introduces herself, trying to shed her noble greetings as in such a place it might feel unwelcome.
Ah incense, smells lovely.
Kimiko raises from the bow and sits at the table in the customary polite position for her people kneeling with her feet tucked behind her. Her tail is neatly wrapped round her knees so not to get in anyone's way.
Kimiko is shocked by news of Gaedran, he was more despicable that she had originally thought. Even if the ophidian features show different reactions to that of the humans of Varisian her anger is clear across her face. "Why would such a man take innocent hatchlings and make them perform such dishonourable acts?! Does this man have not a shred of pride for his people? I will not stand idly by for this, the guard do move woefully slow in Korvosa. Shameful, they should do better. I would gladly end this man's life for bringing such dishonour to the city." She neglects to bring up her brother as she feels that is on her own honour to deal with.
Stela stares in shock as a reptile in Tian armor enters the room and introduces herself. Her eyes flick to the old woman, but she seems to have expected this. When the reptile speaks, she seems as alien in thought as she is in appearance.
"He does it because he can," she says, her voice low and soft, full of a hatred for Lamm that has been nurtured and tended for years. "His pride is in the suffering he causes, and it makes him rich enough to keep the law in his pocket."
Kimiko tilts her head at the Elven girl. "Because he can?" Kimiko asks sadly, not entirely disbelieving Stela.
"What he does is not prideful, it is arrogance and insolent to the law. How does wealth keep law in one's pocket? The law should represent the best devotion the people have to offer. Not some.. trite to be cast aside for petty coin. My people would rebel in such an instance of gross negligence." Kimiko shakes her head. "You speak of this like it is the norm, is that true?" She asks the Elf cautiously.
I fear I have stepped into a pit of ostentant individuals, no wonder crime is so readily reported from Varisien. Even our lords the Nagas would not overstep those bounds unless they wish to spur revolts...
"No, you must be mistaken", Mirian anwsers Grau and places her hood up over hear head. It was a pointless gesture but still it felt better to do something instead of just sitting there. She didn't want to be "known" by somebody from the Korvosan guard. It was true that Grau had left the guard, or rather gotten fired, but you never knew what would come back and haunt you later. She hadn't recognized him at first. The unwashed heap of misery and regret had once been a well liked officer, known to all the recruits. Mirian wondered if there was anything else but his name left of that. It was a sobering reminder what could lay a few drinks down the road, if she choose to try and starve her guilt with wine. That made the head ache worse. A guilt induced hang over.
A few moments later the room was suddenly full with strangers. Mirian had no idea how it had happened. All she knew is that she now stood back to the wall trying her best to melt into the tapestry. It might have worked if she wasn't also standing gapejawed staring at the armored reptile. "What... is that?" She had ment to say something else but she simply wasn't thinking straight. The hangover didn't help.
"Time is of the essence..." Zellara mutters, setting aside her Harrow deck to peer into the murky depths of a crystal ball, "The repercussions of your actions this night are all in shadow. I sense a time of great upheaval is upon us, things may never again be as they once were, and you five strangers will have some bearing on what does - or does not - come to pass...."
She glances at you each in turn, then says;
"Only one thing is certain. Whatever changes the new day will bring, Gaedren Lamm will be in no position to profit from them."
The severity of the situation helps Mirian to gather her senses. She closes her mouth and her wide eye stare. "I.. I am sorry. I have never seen one of your kind before", she tells Kimiko. "To be truthful I'm not sure exactly what your kind is." She reaches for her mug of water and drinks it in one sweep.
Kimiko bows her head slightly at Mirian. "That is alright, you are one of the few who is inquisitive as opposed to outright disgusted by my appearance and I thank you for that. I am a Nagaji, a race of reptiles from the far eastern continent of Tian Xia. I hail from Nibung and I am here on behalf of my Daimyo Hayashi Kasumi. The only other Nagaji that I have known to set foot here in Korvosa is my brother Fujiwara Taka." Kimiko's accent is plain as day with occasional slurs due to her forked tongue and lack of teeth compared to a human.
"This is the first time I have seen many humans in one place it is an odd place. It feels like training all over again. Being the youngest hatchling in a sea of others that know far more than I do." She bows her head again.
Kimiko's eyes then fixate on Zellara "You have given us a location to find this man, I thank you for your hospitality and information though I am wary you could be leading us into a trap. Forgive my boldness to ask what is this location like, as you can no doubt tell I am new to this area so any more information would not be lost on me."
Is that lizard calling me human? Stela thought, bristling, but then sighed and sat back. Let it go. Surely we all look the same to it.
"What is arrogance, but a perverted kind of pride?" she said softly to it. "Your people may be different than ours, but when a man like Lamm is careful to confine his attentions to orphaned children and shiver-fiends, he harms no one who matters. He has destroyed countless lives, and yet there are only the six of us here to stop him."
It was impatience that was making her tense. To be so close to him again after so long, everything that Gaedren had done to her and demanded of her came flooding back, and her hand went to her blade, a reminder that revenge was close.
All Zellara can tell you about the old fishery is that is located on Westpier 17 and had been abandoned up until the point that Gaedren and his cronies moved in about a month ago.
Stela nodded and looked around at the others.
"I've been listening a lot since I came back to Korvosa," she says. "People say that the fishery has been buying bad fish cheap and making it into something that almost passes for food. Nobody seems to work there, but there are a lot of kids around. It sounds like a Lamm operation to me. It also sounds like it would be better if we stayed out of the water."
Kimiko thanks Stela for the information then asks "Does no-one take responsibility for these hatchlings or is it Graeden that is taking them and claiming to be responsible for them?"
Kimiko's tongue hisses a little before she regains her composure "Zellera is there anything more you can tell us?" Before turning to the others "Or shall we be on our way?"
Kimiko pauses for a moment "If I might enquire Zellera, do you have a hooded cloak of some sort? I am going to be like an eel on land walking around like this."
"Everything that the cards have revealed to me, I have relayed to you. The only council I have yet to give is that you should all be careful. Gaedren may be an old man and but a little fish in a big pond, but he is no less dangerous for all that. Tread carefully."
Releasing the clasp at her throat, Zellara removes her own cloak and passes it to Kimiko. The fabric is soft and finely tailored and the clasp is fashioned into the shape of a seven pointed star, a symbol commonly used among Varisian families to represent inner strength and magical prowess.
"You may take this, you will have greater need of it than I in the days to come. Consider it payment for your aid in avenging my son's death."
Caedric picks up his card and glances at Mirian. "Given the chance, I will gladly kill him. He deserves to die, the sooner the better."
Caedric nods at Stela's recital, having heard the same rumors himself. "We'll need a detailed plan, we can't just wander in and start breaking stuff up."
Kimiko extends her arms and takes the cloak carefully. "You are most gracious Zellera, I will endeavour to take care of this cloak. I shall return it to you if fate is kind enough to let us meet again."
Kimiko stands and bows in gratitude. She swings the cloak around and gets it to cover her then does the clasp up.
"I agree young man, the place is relatively deserted from what you say except for the criminals. Thus anyone walking by would be suspicious in the first place. I would suggest approaching the area under the guise of night. Doing a case location trying to find the best entrance then taking that route in. Or providing a distraction to the front guard, there is bound to be one. Taking him out and moving inside." Kimiko's military background starting to surface as she talks quite plainly about a plan that might involve killing. "How well do humans see in dim light? Would we need a torch?"
Caedric nods at Stela's recital, having heard the same rumors himself. "We'll need a detailed plan, we can't just wander in and start breaking stuff up."
"Course we can..." Grau slurs, staggering towards the door, "Starting with that old bastard's wrinkly head!"
Mirian looks over the odd group that has gathered, all bonded by their common hatered for Gaedren Lamm. Aside from her own brushes with the vile old man his atrocities he'd commited seemed distant. Not that Mirian had dismissed the hurt he'd caused, but seeing all gathered like this drove it home. Gaedren had it coming. He would get what he deserved, and what he deserved seemed to be coming in the shape of a coffin. Even if she might not have the what it takes to deliver a killing blow, Mirian had no doubt that at least one of the others did.
"Not in that condition", Mirian tells Grau. "The sun is still up, and will be for a while. Get some rest and we will scout the fishery. We can then strike as the sun sets."
"Humans don't see well in the dark, but there should be enough light around for us to manage. After all, Gaedren is a human to, eventhough he doesn't act like it. He'll need light. A torch would only give away our position", Mirian anwsers Fujiwara.
Mirian would rather take her own advice and sleep through her own hangover but she'd never been good at delegating tasks to others. Especially not things like this. She would have to pull through and hope that the head ache would eventually give way. After all, the best way to clear a guilt induced head ache is to do some good.
"If Lamm is in the fishery, I suggest that if we are unwilling to go in strong, we send one of us to scout the place immediately," Stela says. The look on her face says she is ready to go this moment and attack the place, but she makes no move. "I will not stand by and let him escape again because we delayed too long to strike when we did know where he was. I say he dies tonight."
Kimiko smiles at the jib to Gaedren "Alright then, I agree we should make our move tonight. I can volunteer myself to scout the place out if need be. I am relatively suited but I admit I do not know this city well so I won't always know exactly what I'm looking for but I can describe the area well enough."
She nods "Shall we do that quickly first, discuss a plan then go in at night? For those that need a rest they can rest now and we can wake them for the activity tonight. Does this sound agreeable to everyone?"
Grau agrees to sleep off the worst of his hangover and meet you outside the old fishery later this evening. He stumbles off in the general direction his lodgings without even looking at the face-down Harrow card that Zellara had placed on the table in front of him.
Mirian watches the doorway for a few moments after Grau left before making up her mind. "I'm going to see to it that he get's to where he's going without falling into a bar on the way", she says. "I'll meet you at the fishery to scout Lamm's hideout soon." With that she nods to the party and leaves to follow Grau, keeping her distance so she doesn't get noticed. Later she couldn't say why she felt obligated to make sure that Grau didn't dig himself deeper into the hole he was currently neck deep in. Perhaps it was her inability to leave things like this alone. If she could help, she would or regret and obess about it until she did. Perhaps the guardsman worked as a cautionary tale of what could happen if she indulged deeper into what the bars had to offer. Probably both. One good deed deserves another.
Once Mirian has made sure that Grau made it safely to where he was supposed to go she heads towards Westpier 17 to scout Gaedren Lamm's hideout. On her way there she keeps her eyes out for anyone of Lamm's lambs or people that could be suspected of working for the vile old man. Once there she stays out of sight and tries to make out anyone she met at Zellera's home, approching them to draw up a plan.
Perched atop an abandoned warehouse adjacent to the old fishery, you are able to watch the building and the street outside with little risk of discovery. Although you cannot see the main entrance from your vantage point, you have a good view down at a slippery boardwalk clinging to the side of the fishery, held together by barnacle-thick pilings that have been worn halfway through their thickness at the waterline. This back alley leads out over the turgid water of the River Jeggare, where an ancient barge has been securely lashed with lengths of old rope. About an hour before dusk, a covered wagon left the fishery, the foul smell of fish guts was potent enough to turn your stomach as it trundled down the cobbled lane.
Kimiko goes to the fishery just to walk past it as nonchalantly as she can acting like a lost foreigner if she gets spotted. She will try to spot anything she can taking not of the scents of people inside and using her infra-red vision to get people's general locations. She doesn't need to be close to hide so will take advantage of her natural senses.
Though muffled through a pair of warped, double doors on the far side of the building, you hear a voice raised suddenly in anger, the crack of a whip and a shrill shriek of pain.
Caedric shakes his head as the others rush out willy-nilly. He takes several minutes to plan his approach to the pier, making contingencies for every possibility. Only then does he leave the smoke-filled room.
He approaches the pier cautiously, carrying a bundle, trying to give the impression of being a porter looking for a delivery point. He noticed Kimiko, hard not to notice her, really, but did not acknowledge her.
Kimiko moves away from the area once she has the information she needs. She saw a glimpse of Mirian while she was investigating so waits to meet up with her a distance away from their target area.
Once they rendezvous Kimiko says "The more I dig into activities with this man the more I wish.." Kimiko's lidless eyes flicker as she shakes her head. "Emotion is for another time, I have found out that the east wing of the fishery is empty, might be an easy entry point. We can kill whomever is associated with Gaedren there and move in that way. I suspect I have found where they store the hatchlings as well." Her fist clenches up for just a moment.
"On the far side there I heard some people being tortured or driven to work I am unsure. I understand the need to keep others in line.. this is not how you do it. Especially not with hatchlings." She looks over to Mirian.
How about you Miri, was that your name? You smelled similar to the guardsman, so you must be Miri right? I'm confusing you and the other human female sorry. Did you find anything else? Seemed like you got closer that I did." Kimiko asks apologetically.
Mirian insincivly covers her mouth and tries desperatly not to look embarassed. You see. They can even smell it. Keep this in mind next time you . "Elf. Stela is an elf, not human. ", Mirian says trying to get her head back in gear. "And yes, Miri is fine. I've been called that before."
Eager to get the subject moving from her lingering odour Mirian starts to relay what she say when scouting the fishery. "I couldn't get a good view of the main entrance, but there is a boardwalk on the side that leads to a barge behind the fishery. But the walkway looked slippry and not in the best of shape. I worry that it might break under a heavier load or that one might slip and fall into the water. The fishery is a popular spot for jigsaw sharks to gather and eat of the waste thrown into the river."
Is it possible to follow the cart at a distance? See where it goes and who's driving it?
Was I able to spot any hint of a back entrance through the boardwalk or the barge?