I'm super excited to start this campaign; I've been reading APs essentially as novellas (lacking a regular group after a move) for a while now, and Curse of the Crimson Throne is one of my favorites. A few formalities before we begin:
Please take a moment to flesh out your characters as fully as possible. A section on your aliases for important NPCs in your life would be nice, but the one thing I really NEED to know before we begin is where and in what conditions you're living right now. That'll help get the narrative kick-started in a big way.
A few more specific mechanical questions:
No worries, it's not there. It's positive and cures. He's a good-hearted priest of the end of the world.
Can I post my section for the Rosa in Fiore in my alias, Norv? It basically has info on my family and my living conditions.
Absolutely! That's more than sufficient, I just wanted to make sure I had that info from everyone.
|Gadriel the Lost|
The sun rises over Korvosa early today, hot and bright. As the hours pass, the city begins to come to life in all its usual ways: fishermen, who have been out since well before the sun, begin to come in from the bay; scholars make their way across the grounds of the Acadamae to their early classes; priests make their way to prayers; and in the poorer districts the stink of refuse, mixed with the day's catch beginning to take on the sun, wafts into the air.
On this hot, heavy day, the city is busily preparing for the Founding Festival, which is two days hence (on the 14th of Erastus). The city is packed with visitors and merchants, many on an annual trip designed to capitalize on the festivities. Ale, wine, and harder liquors are being imported by the cartload. Citizens of the upper classes are having the final adjustments and alterations made to their outfits for the many parties they plan on attending, while the lower classes merely look forward to the day off. Among the lowest of the low, there is little interest; they might receive more alms with more people on the streets, but that's about all they have to look forward to. Criminals are looking forward to the many easy marks.
And it's on a criminal that your mind rests when you wake up this day, a man you're thinking of even as you emerge from slumber, a man whose name seems to haunt you...Gaedren...Gaedren Lamm.
Not long after rising, you notice something unusual...
|Gadriel the Lost|
Korriban stretches, wincing at the pain of his scars 'Heh. It's as if I had just gotten them.' He then puts on a fresh pair of pants, his favorite golden shirt, and his belt boots, and armor. He then puts on his neatly placed ratty light brown trench coat. All the while smiling at the sounds of the Rosa in the morn. 'Just another day in f**kin' paradise,' he thinks fondly, chuckling to himself. He then makes his way towards his bedside table and notices a card in his bandana. He picks it up, staring at the image emblazoned upon it. 'What the hell? Who put this here? Had to have been pretty skilled and ballsy to break into this place. And why a rabbit prince? Is it supposed to be me? I'm not a rabbit, last time I checked. And I'm the furthest thing from a prince.' He flips the card over and reads the message. His eyes widen in shock. He rereads it several times, a grin forming with each word. By the time he's done, the grin threatens to consume his face. He slowly begins to chuckle, becoming near maniacal but mirthful laughter. 'FINALLY! THE TIME HAS COME!' He then stashes the card and bandana into one of his coat pockets. He then runs out the door, making his way to his mother's office, saying good morning to the fellow residents.. 'She should be up by now. She'd want to see this!' He stops at the door to the office. After knocking on the door, he takes the hair obscuring his face and pulls it back and ties off all of his hair with the hair tie, forming his mid-back length ponytail. He waits wrapping the bandana around his head, the smile still on his face. 'Today's going to be a GREAT day!'
So, right out of the gate, I'm talking to my mom. Can't wait to see how this will be done. :)
Imperia carefully takes the card in her hands and examines it thoroughly, slightly unsettled that someone apparently managed to sneak in her room and leave it on her desk.
When she reads the message on the back of the card, her heart almost skips a beat.
'Could this be true? Maybe they know where Lamm is hiding!... Or... A trap? It's a possibility, but... No, no! I must go! If there is even the slightest chance... 3 of Lancet Street, at sunset. I'll be there.'
Her mind made up, Imperia takes her time to prepare herself, her equipment and her magic for the meeting, then she sets out, determination in her eyes, without looking back once.
With the loud sounds of the city awake and active pouring through his window, Adoros flips the card over and reads it for the sixth time. Not Theron's handwriting for sure, he is not that neat. Did anyone else come in with him last night? I don't remember there being anyone...
Fingers trailing down the stubble growing from his chin, he turns to look at Theron snoring away in the room's lone chair. The Taldane youth sprawls in an uncomfortable-looking position across its length, the stains of last night's revelry marring his colorful eveningwear. Adoros shakes Theron's shoulder to wake him as one of the Taldane's bloodshot eyes cracks open, "Wazzup, Addy? Ish... time for more drinksh?"
Adoros holds the Harrow card and its message in front of the drunken man's face, "Did you leave me this or was there someone else with you in here last night?" Theron attempts at focusing his open eye on the blurry card before slumping back over in the chair with a mighty yawn, "Never sheen it before. Wakes me for supper." The sound of logs being murdered by a rusty saw fill the room once more as Adoros shakes his head at his useless friend.
Once more stroking the shadow of a beard growing on his chin, Adoros moves over to the mirror set into wall above his dresser. He sets the Harrow card, the Forge, down next to a bowl of water while he reaches for his shaving razor. Lamm. That bastard deserves more than a severe beating for what he tried to do to me. To think the envious lout thought he could poison me and try to steal what is mine!
Adoros suddenly hisses in pain as the razor, held tightly in his grip, nicks his skin. He dabs at it with a towel, the blood staining its white fabric a deep crimson. Curse that drug for clouding my good sense to know a rat when I smelt one. No doubt these 'others' have suffered Lamm's cons as well and need a man of strength and conviction like me before gaining the confidence to act. Just as well as I would not miss seeing the look on that rat's face for all the gold in Abadar's Vault. As he finishes and washes his face one last time, Adoros gazes up at the mirror and into his shaven face. The flesh was paler than it normally was and a little shallow around the cheeks and eyes but not all that bad considering he had nearly died a few days prior.
The Chelish man quickly put on his shirt and boots before starting the arduous process of donning his scale mail armor. A number of minutes later, Adoros gathers up the rest of his equipment, grabs the Harrow card and heads out the door. It was still a number of hours to sunset but he has a growling stomach to fill with food, an address to find, and a meeting place to watch. This could be some elaborate plot by Lamm to finally kill him for good and that was a chance he didn't wish to risk without due consideration.
Anyone else who's heading to the address on the card, if you're asking around you may come across the following information...
Korriban takes the seat. When his mother is seated in her chair, he takes out the card from his pocket and hands it to her. When she finishes, he smiles and says, "Found that in my room this morning. Mom, this is our opportunity. After years of dead ends and false leads, we got him. This is our chance to enact our revenge!" He leans forward, his grin getting wider. "So, what is my task, O Servant of the Savored Sting?"
Abruptly she stands, and crosses to the room's only window as she looks out onto the street. "In fact, it may well be too good to be true. With so many people in town for the Festival, it would be easy for someone to get lost in the press of Midland." She turns back to you, and the worry is plain on her face. "I do not intend to lose you, Korriban. But still-" and you see in her eyes a flash of the fire that always lurks there when Lamm is on her mind-"I will not lose this chance to destroy our enemy. You may pursue this route, but you must take every precaution. The person who sent this could mean us ill, or it could be a trap set by Lamm himself. Even assuming it's legitimate, the reasons these 'others' have for coming may not align with ours. Be very careful." She cups your face in her hands and looks down at you. "Bring yourself back, and in one piece to enjoy this world."
So we're just waiting on Raina...right now this is the order of arrival:
2 hours before sunset: Adoros, Imperia
1 hour before: Gadriel (via rooftop)
At sunset (barring other decisions): Teodor
Unknown: Korriban, Raina
Sorry for the delay, I'm a bit busy at the moment!
Having just come in from her morning run, Raina's chest heaves as she dabs off the sweat on her forehead with a damp towel. Bad dreams last night - as usual - but she'd woken up at dawn and couldn't get back to sleep as a result. Having nothing better to do on one of her days off, she decided to take an extra-long course and nab some fresh bread for breakfast on the way back. She roughly tears off a hunk of bread, gnawing on it as she moves to chuck her coin pouch into her backpack for later.
That's when she saw it - the strange card poking out of her own deck of cards. Raina frowns darkly as she pulls it from the pack, arching a brow at the strange design on the front. But when she flips it over and notices that message, she practically chokes on her breakfast and promptly tosses the card on the ground with a loud curse.
"What the F!@@?!" she growls, glaring in anger at the card as if it would come to life and answer her. Immediately on alert, she scoops up the brass knuckles by her bedside and slips them on in a deft action, spending the next ten minutes or so creeping around her apartment checking and double-checking for any signs of an intruder. In the end, her adrenaline rush seems to be for naught, and she's left with only simmering anger and the chilling cold of fear and concern.
"Who the f$%&..." she mutters to herself, nervously running her hands through her hair. "Who in the F+&&..." This didn't make sense! She didn't talk to anyone about what happened back then. The only person from back then who knew she was even still alive was well beyond this plane of existence.
It was as if The Past was trying to force its way back into The Present. And Raina really, really didn't like that.
After a few minutes of internal debate spent glaring at the card from across the room, Raina decides to pocket it and set off to investigate. The damn thing felt like it could burn a hole right through her pocket or that it weighed a thousand kilograms. The young boxer struggles with the desire to simply rip it to pieces and forget about it--but knows that it would weigh on her mind even more then.
She had to know who sent it. Had to know how... and why.
Take 10 on Diplomacy (Gather Information) for 10.
With no particular need to be anywhere today, Raina casually asks around about the address mentioned on it. She is quite surprised by the result, in fact. A Varisian fortune-teller...? That's right, they use those special fortune-telling cards, don't they? She frowns. Can they really tell the future? Or look into the past...?
After fretting about it for another couple of hours, Raina convinces herself to at least check out the address, realising she would have another sleepless night should she ignore the offer. She turns up about an hour before sunset, making herself seem busy in the area and watching for signs of anyone else turning up.
Korriban gives a soft smile at his mother. He hugs her, thanking her for all she has done and no doubt will continue to do. "I'll be careful, mom. If it is indeed a trap, then whoever I meet will lead me to Lamm." Grin. "Whether they want to or not. However, just to be safe, I think a prayer to Calistria is in order."
After the prayer and blessing, Korriban takes the card, places it in his coat pocket, and goes to the door. He stops, however, and turns back, a smirk on his face. "Oh, while I'm out, is there anything you want? Something from the market? Something valuable from Gaedren's stash? Gaedren's severed head so you can look back on this day fondly?"
At Lialda's response, he nods and leaves for his room. He grabs his equipment. He heads downstairs and eats breakfast before taking about three apples and stashing them in his backpack. As he runs for the door, he says to Falko, "Sorry. I won't be able to help with security today. Mom gave me an errand to run. I'll see you later!"
Their responses and actions are up to you, Norv.
Korriban wanders around, trying to remember where Lancet Street is. He comes across a "friendly" looking dock worker. He goes up to him and says, "Excuse me, fine sir. I was wondering if you knew where 3 Lancet Street is?"
Take 10 on Diplomacy: 10 + 9 = 19
He smiles at the dock worker and thanks him. As he heads to Lancet Street, he looks over the Harrow Card. 'A future seeing card, huh? I get the distinct feeling that I'm going to be seeing even weirder s**t. Okay, questions to ask: Who are you? Why did I get this card? Why did you call me? And the most important one... WHY THE F**K DID I GET A F**KIN' RABBIT PRINCE WHEN I COULD HAVE GOTTEN SOMETHING MUCH MORE FITTING?!'
Korriban is going to be in stealth in the the crowds and the streets and alleys, picking up on anyone suspicious. He'll be staking out the place for the entire day.
Korriban arrives at the address. He spends his day, wandering around, keeping to the crowds, shadows, and alleys, keeping an eye out, avoiding suspicion and detection, all while munching on his apples.
Stealth: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Take 10 on Bluff to not look suspicious: 10 + 8 = 18
Take 20 on Perception to keep an eye out for anyone suspicious looking: 20 + 5 = 25
So, Korriban will be around way before any of the others show up.
@Raina--no worries, that's life. Didn't mean that as a chastisement, just a status update. @Korriban--wee bit sensitive about that rabbit thing, eh? :P
So the order of arrival is this:
2 hours before sunset: Adoros, Imperia
1 hour before sunset: Gadriel (via rooftop), Raina
Around sunset: Teodor
As you dash out past Falko, he raises an eyebrow, his face otherwise impassive. "Indeed, young master? Well, we shall manage. Good luck with the...errand."
3 Lancet Street is a modest, two-story house in the border area between West Dock and High Bridge, not far from Citadel Volshyenek and on the waterfront, facing the docks. The clangor of the crowds doing business on the docks, of boats of all kinds coming into dock or casting off into the river.
The house is clean and looks reasonably well-maintained, given its location in a not-fabulously-wealthy part of the city. No one, however, seems to be home--you can see no movement or signs of life from inside the house, and no one goes in or out.
Korriban arrives first--I'll ask Imperia and Adoros to decide whether they're going to attempt to blend in or look innocuous, and make stealth or bluff checks as appropriate.
@Norv--Well, rabbits are docile and cute. And while Korriban could be considered "cute", he thinks he's so awesome, that he should have something like a tiger or a wolf or a dragon. Plus, Teodor has the courtesan card. So, that might cause some problems. ;)
Diplomacy (Gather Information): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Imperia thanks profusely the dockworker for the useful information. Despite having lived in Korvosa for more than ten years, virtually the entirety of that time was spent inside the Acadamae walls, with the rare escapade in the neighboring Heights District, and Korvosa remains more of an unfamiliar place to her than she cares to admit.
With still a few hours to go before sundown, Imperia arrives at the meeting place. Dressed in utilitarian clothes and with the hood of her ample cloak hiding her features, she looks for a spot from which she can observe her surroundings, while still remaining relatively unnoticed.
"See if you can sense something too, Rutilus." She whispers softly, opening her cloak.
Suddenly, from the folds of her cloak, an uncommonly large scorpion comes out. He swiftly climbs Imperia's arm and proceeds to perch himself on top of her shoulder, where he keeps turning in every direction every few moments, rubbing his pincers together from time to time.
Stealth: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Perception (Imperia): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Perception (Rutilus, Familiar): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
'Here it is... Quite unremarkable, truth be told... And why'd it be any different? Makes sense I suppose... A fortune teller, Zellara, that man said? Could it be she... Ugh! It's no use now. I'm here. I'm ready. I'm not going away. Uhmm... But what if...-'
A thousand thoughts swim through Imperia's mind while the sun lazily crosses the sky, until finally the hour comes.
With her hands almost shaking from tension, but more than ever determined to see things through, Imperia comes out of her hiding spot and makes her way to the building's entrance.
If neither Imperia nor her familiar notice anything suspicious, then when the time is right she enters the building to attend the meeting.
Do I notice Imperia with my Perception? Also, Rutilus almost noticed me (one less than check). Also, Korriban will enter after the first person (right now, Imperia but might change).
EDIT: I feel stupid. I definitely noticed Imperia and now Gadriel. So, new post based on that.
|Gadriel the Lost|
The small child skips along the roof peaks, humming softly to herself as she nears 3 Lancet Street. Dressed in ragged clothes of mismatched sizes, with a bedraggled mop of jet black hair in need of a wash blowing in the slight breeze, she looks very much like the orphan she probably is. As she nears her destination she crouches down, hugging her knees as she watches the place from the roof of house across the street. A small monkey hangs on her shoulder chittering softly. With a wan smile that looks unnatural to her face, she hands a small crust of bread to the creature. ”We know we must be careful. We know the man may be tricking us. Others may be here too, and we would want to help them. Maybe have them help us. Maybe both. Maybe none.” She looks back towards the house, while the monkey watches with strangely intelligent eyes. Soon, a soft paw pats the girl’s cheek. ”We will pay him back. We will stop him from stealing others. Hurting others.” The monkey utters a very strange growl, and his eyes briefly glow yellow. “Yes, Abu can have the bad man’s eyes.”
She stays there, perched on the roof, watching the house in silence until the sun begins to dip. Paying no heed to the hustle and bustle of the street below, she silently watches yet not knowing what she may be looking for. Suddenly standing, in three short hops she is on the ground. Looking strangely out of place, and now very small. She darts across the street and stands for a moment in the doorway. With a sharp intake of breath, she pats the monkey on her shoulder. ”Abu will keep us safe, anyway.” She then slowly, cautiously, enters the building.
Diplomacy (Gather Information): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Bluff: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 5
The sun was making its way inevitably closer to the horizon as Adoros stuffed the last of the meat pie into his mouth. The rich gravy did well in masking whatever creature donated its flesh for the meal, something that he didn’t want to spend too much time in contemplating. Wiping the last of the pie from his lips, Adoros flags down a passing merchant, ”My good man, do you happen to know where Lancet Street is located? I’m still new to Korvosa and you appear to be a man of the city who knows his way around. Any assistance would be greatly appreciated.”
The merchant, a native Varisian by his coloration and hair-style, turned to look at the Chelish youth with a faint smirk, ”I believe it’s located somewhere in Midland near the Citadel. Dockside if memory serves.” He turns to move away as Adoros motions in thanks. Now with better idea of the area where Lancet Street could be found, the Chelish man started in that direction. Soon he was amongst the docks and the bustling workers that filled them.
A few miss turns down the wrong streets later, Adoros drew near his destination. The line of buildings on Lancet was well-kept for the area, not yet ran down like many grew in such a district. It was still two hours shy of sunset as the cavalier sat down on an empty crate a few buildings down from house number 3. In his hands, he held up several fliers for the festivities in the next few days. He kept the paper in front of his face as he tried to appear as he was contemplating the words with a singular intensity.
At sunset, Adoros will make his way toward the house but if anyone has already entered or started toward it, he will place his hand on his sword and proceed with caution.
Korriban munches on his apple when he sees someone very peculiar. A figure in an ample cloak trying to hide near an alleyway. The shape of the figure suggests that she's a woman. His eyebrow raises and he gains a small grin. 'Well now. What's a fine lass like that doing skulking around?' He sees her open her cloak a bit and... out comes a scorpion. He looks on, intrigued by what he sees. The scorpion turns to him. Before it can notice, Korriban manages to duck into a small gathering. When the scorpion turns, he thinks: 'Thing almost noticed me. Going to have to be careful.' From his new position, however, he sees a figure on a roof. It appears to be a little girl with a monkey. 'Scorpions? Monkeys? Am I going to be attacked by a menagerie?'
Again, his eye catches that of a man around his age, looking to be armed to the teeth.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
The man is constantly staring at the house. 'Now, what could he want?'
After a while, he notices scorpion woman moving and going into the house. Before he can make a move, he notices the little girl and monkey doing the same, followed by the armored man. 'This is going to be... interesting to say the least.' He makes his way to the house, putting on his lady killer smirk, his left hand on the hilt of his rapier and his right near the belt pouch that contains his smokestick.
I'm assuming that the order is Imperia, Galdriel, Adoros, then Korriban. Let me know if I'm wrong.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
Looks like they weren't lying when they said there were 'others', Raina notes to herself from her position inside a nearby bookstore with a scowl. She'd been watching the door to 3 Lancet Street from the shop's window while pretending to be engrossed in tales of Chelish feats of engineering and architecture (the shopkeep had been unsuccessfully trying to encourage her to leave for the better part of fifteen minutes).
The boxer almost considers leaving when she spots -- oddly enough -- a... somewhat familiar face. Not someone she was really friends with or anything, just... the son of a client or something like that. Poor guy was raised in a brothel or something. Raina wasn't one to judge someone's profession -- someone's gotta do it, after all -- but that couldn't have been a nice environment as a kid. What was his name again...? Cory or something?
With a final moment of hesitation, Raina slams the musty tome shut and slips it back onto the shelf before striding outside. She doesn't bother with secrecy or caution anymore; instead, she rather roughly pulls the door open and stomps inside.
As soon as she spies anyone else, she growls, "Alright, one of you is going to tell me what the hell is going on here..."
So, for those of you in the house...I'm actually assuming Gadriel enters first, since she's the only one who did not bother looking around for others outside.
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 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 seven elegant, tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue cloth sits under the table.
Gadriel enters the building first, and finds a handwritten note weighted down on the table by a small pebble. Imperia follows the strange child in, then Adoros, Korriban, and, bursting through the door, Raina.
Teodor follows closely in. "Aha, the so-called 'others.' All this talk of Lamms ...perhaps I've waded into a nursery rhyme. Some of you sorts seem close to still being on the teat ...Lamb teat for some, if I don't miss my guess, fellow guests. Two strapping lads and three young ladies ...do I sniff the sulfur and bookish scent of the arcane?"
I guess I'll start, then.
When Korriban enters, he looks around, taking in the surroundings. He takes a closer look at the tapestries in particular. "Heh. Look at these, huh? We got the creepy..." He points to the hooded figure, "...the majestic..." the angels, "...and the just downright cheery.", and finally he points to the black-skulled beast. He then turns the others, a smile on his face. "Just gives the room a certain charm, doesn't it?" Reading the note, he smiles. "Well, our host is going to feed us. Who wants to test it? You know, just in case."
Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Now for the fun part. :) If you need to know what Korriban looks like, then you can refer to the alias.
Korriban sees the child with the monkey. His smile fades and has look of confusion. "Excuse me, little girl. But this isn't a place for children. Now run along home, child." His thoughts, however, say otherwise. 'A child? Here? From her clothing, she's an orphan. If she's here for the same reason as I am, then she should get out as soon as possible.'
At the sight of the beauty in front of him, Korriban gives a flirtatious smirk and a slight chuckle. He approaches her and bows, taking her hand in his. "My, my. To see such excusite beauty in front of me, it seems to be my lucky day. Thy lady truly must be of royalty. My name is Korriban Balros." He gently kisses her knuckles, before staring into her eyes, his eyes containing a light twinkle, the smirk turning into a gentle smile. "May I be honored with your name, princess?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24
Turning to the armored man, Korriban notes that he's around his age and appears to be of noble stock. He gives a smirk. 'Oh, this will be fun.' "So, my good sir. What are you here for? Did Lamm mess up your hair or something?"
The door slams open. Korriban looks to see a slightly shorter woman around his age stomping in. His eyebrow quirks. There was something familiar about this woman. Those scars, that chestnut hair, that attitude. Where has he seen her before? It wasn't until he heard her voice that it clicks. The frown on her face, the roughness in her voice, the faint throbbing in his lower jaw from her punch due to his flirting, as if in remembrance. He gives his smirk and turns to her. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Raina. Or Rai-Rai, if I prefer? Which I do, by the way. Did mom hire you to keep an eye on me? Or maybe my words from our first encounter have sunken into your mind and you're... intrigued?" He chuckles. "As for your request, I don't know. All I got was this card." He holds up his Harrow card.
Seeing the odd man walk through the door, Korriban turns to him. "Please don't say that I'm on Lamm's teat; the thought is rather disgusting. What about you, cleric? Were you attached to Lamm's teat?" He walks closer to the man. He squints at the man's holy symbol. "Who's symbol is that? Doesn't look like anything I've ever seen."
"I was imprisoned and shivved if you catch my meaning, and with mitts like that I wager you do. My symbol is that of Great Groetus, The End, the Final Arbiter. The moon of Pharasma, don't finger Her Moon but long, wordwringer."
Already tempestuous as the evening storms that blew in from the Storval Plains, Raina turns her glare immediately upon the vaguely-familiar smart-arse that seemed to be enjoying himself here this evening. "Don't press my patience, mate," she replies with a grumble, "this farce has got me riled enough as it is. I hope I don't have to remind you what happened when that client of your joint mistook me for one of the hire girls."
At the reveal of his Harrow card, though, Raina's eyes widen in mild surprise. "I guess you all got one too, eh?" she says to the rest of the room. Raina reaches into a pocket and withdraws her own card - the Big Sky.
Adoros folds the sheet of paper he was pretending to read as he follows the two woman into the building as the sun hits the horizon. Before he can even open his mouth to question the two ladies inside the quaint dwelling, a slick Varisian man around his age slipped inside and immediately began to share his internal monologue with the lot of them. With Korriban's flippant remark about his hair, Adoros stiffens up with his hand never leaving his sword's hilt at his belt, "Beware your tongue, my good man, else we'll have words outside. I know not who you are nor your relation to that rat, Lamm, but I'll ask you to keep a civil disposition when in my presence or that of a lady."
Intimidate or Diplomacy, take your pick: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
As Adoros does his own quick evaluation of the room, two more Varisians barge into 3 Lancet Street, forcing the Chelish man to move so his back was facing a corner of the building. His fingers lift and close in a drumming beat upon his sword hilt as he eyes the lot of them. His gaze holds on the only other Chelish soul in the room as he gives a short dip of the head in Imperia's direction, before addressing the rest in the room, "So some of us received mysterious cards and messages to meet here, it does not answer the question of who summoned us to this place. I was promised retribution on Lamm and like a stallion with a carrot dangled before it, I have followed the bait. If I was Lamm, this would be the perfect opportunity to entrap my enemies in an enclosed space and make sure none of them were left alive. So the question now is if this is a trap, who amongst us is here to signal that all the prey are in place?"
Just as Imperia is about to move from her hiding spot and approach the building, a small figure darts across the street and enters the doorway.
'Uhmm... It seems I won't be attending this meeting alone... Who was that, I wonder... I need to be on my guard...'
Her indecision lasting but a fleeting moment, the young woman finally comes out of the shadows, approaches the doorway, and enters. As she does so, the large scorpion sitting on her shoulder climbs her arm back down and hides once more among the folds of her cloak.
Used to the ungodly stenches some of the Acadamae laboratories invariably reeked of, Imperia barely registers the pungent scent of incense that engulfs her once she has made her way inside the place.
On the other hand, the elegant yet vaguely unsettling decorations catch her eye, and she spends a few moments admiring them, and trying to discern their hidden meaning, if any.
When eventually her attention focuses on the only other occupant of the room, Imperia can't help but frown slightly at the realization that it's actually a very young girl, almost a child. 'What in the Gold-Fisted's name is such a young little girl doing here?... Could it be that she was called here too?... No, no, that's nonsense! She's just a child... Just a few years older than Celia...'
"Little one, what are you doing here?" - Imperia asks the child, in a soft voice, trying not to scare her - "It... Could be dangerous... Shouldn't you be home? Are you lost? Do you need help?"
When others start to arrive, Imperia stiffens visibly, unsure at first what to make of the heterogeneous group of people that fills the room.
Imperia will be courteous and polite, offering her name and a few words of presentation if asked directly, but otherwise she'll keep to herself until whoever summoned them all there finally decides to show himself.
Imperia raises an eyebrow in genuine perplexity when one of the other guests, a young man approximately her age, approaches her and bows. When he takes her hand into his and gives it a soft kiss, she can't suppress a little smile. After weeks of having to deal with less than savory individuals trying to get information about her sister's disappearance, to meet a fellow with manners is actually quite refreshing, even if those manners seem tempered with blatant flattery and a little cockiness.
"Imperia. Imperia Videlia Aspexia Winthrune. It is a delight to make your acquaintance, Korriban Balros" - She offers in a soft voice, her own violet eyes meeting his green ones - "Please, if I may inquire, would you happen to be here for the same reason as I? Have you received an... Invitation, shall we say, written on the back of an harrow card, as I did?"
At Raina's grumbling, Korriban laughs boisterously. "Relax, Rai-Rai. It's all in good fun. I remember what happened to that client. B*****d had go find a wheelbarrow to haul his a** back to his house. Anyway, the punch I received was a lesson learned. Besides, I do have enough decency to stop my advances if a woman turns them down. Living in a house with 12 woman teaches you a few things." He then gently smiles at Raina and says, "You don't seem to remember my name. I must not left much an impression when we first met." His smile turns into a huge grin. "Allow me to fix that. My name is Korriban Balros. Nice to meet you!"
At the reveal of Raina's card, Korriban gets a closer look at her card. Looking from his card to hers, he thinks, 'Well, at least hers isn't a f****n' rabbit prince.'
Korriban looks genuinely confused at Teodor's statement. 'So, what you're saying is that you worship a moon that causes the end of the world? All right then. Good for you."
Going with Diplomacy for the check
I don't know if this works in this case. But according to this, the oppose DC is listed. Now I don't know if this works for PCs. But I'm going with it. If I'm wrong, then let me know. I'm guessing that starting attitude would be indifferent, so 15 + 2 Cha modifier = 17. So if this is right, then Adoros would fail. Again let me know if this is wrong in the case of PCs.
Korriban rolls his eyes. "Oh, relax would you? It was just a joke. Something you're going to have to get used to if you team with me. So there's no need to get your knickers tied up." At Adoros's command to keep it civil in front of the ladies, Korriban narrows his eyes. "Well, my good man, I'll have you know that I do hold women in the highest of regards, shocking it may be, and that I try to maintain civility and respect. Comes with living with about 12 women in one roof. Rai-Rai can agree with that." He jerks his thumb in Raina's direction. He smirks and pulls down the collar of his armor and shirt, revealing a couple of scars and the beginning of what appears to be a complicated tattoo, the symbol of Calistria visible. "It's just that my adopted family's beliefs are rooted in me." He then makes his way to the table, puts the basket on the table, takes one of the loaves of bread, and rips it, with one half being considerably larger. He hands the larger piece to the girl with the monkey with a smile on his face. "Eat up, kid. You must be starving. I know the feeling all to well. Never feels good, am I right?" He then turns his attention back to the armored man as he leans against one of the walls. "Well if I'm going to be "civil" in your eyes, perhaps you could do me a favor and loosen up. You know, have some fun? Smile? Not be such a stick in the mud?" He then begins eating his piece of bread.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
At Adoros's question, Korriban smiles and shakes his head. "Not me. I think I would be the first of us to relish in Lamm's death. After all, when he "released" me from his service, he left such several lovely parting gifts." He points to the scars on his left cheek to help emphasize the point. "By the way, just for the future, if we're all going to go after Lamm, then I want it said here and now that I want the killing blow. I do carry the weight of vengeance for two, I've been training for this day, and Calistria demands it."
Korriban smiles. "Imperia. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. It is quite the honor to meet you as well, my lady. As a matter of fact, I did recieve a Harrow card with an invitation. Here." He pulls out his card from his coat pocket and hands it to you with a wink.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23
I'm going to let you guys keep roleplaying for a bit, but as a sidenote: generally I, as a GM, don't require players to roll checks when interacting with each other unless they're for opposed things (ie. rolling a Bluff vs. Sense Motive). For things like diplomacy and intimidation, unless the attempt is going extraordinarily far (making someone completely servile or head-over-heels in love with you), you guys can just roleplay. Use your best judgment to decide how your character would react--that way we don't have to worry about things like being bound to "liking" a fellow PC who operates in ways abhorrent to your character's morals, for example, just because he got a good roll.
Korriban looks towards the odd cleric. "Yeah, all things have an end. But I serve my family, myself, Calistria, and Shelyn. I refuse to die until I believe it's my time. If you want to worship a world killing moon, then go right on ahead. I won't judge. I worship both love and lust, so I'm not one to argue." He gives a gentle smile, showing no malice or bigotry.
At the cleric's suggestion, Korriban's eyes widen and his jaw drops. He stares at him for a few seconds before he just starts laughing uproariously. When he finally calms down, he says, "Oh, my doomsaying friend. I was wrong about you! I think we'll get along just fine. Anyway, introductions! I'm Korriban Balros! A pleasure to meet you, my Lamm ending friend!"
[B]"Teodor Niculescu, native of this fine city and this verdant land of Varisia. I suspect in this too we are brothers. Words were once my only trade and faith, but they serve my true master well. But hark! This child-who-is-not is an interesting addition. She is wiser than she should be and wisdom is taught not but within pain. Dear girl, what did he do to you?"
Korriban nods at Teodor, a grin on his face. "Indeed it appears that we are brothers. In Korvosa, Varisia, and the way of the word." He pauses in his eating, looking to the little girl, a slight frown on his face. He says in a unusually, uncharacteristically gentle and soothing voice, "Yes, child. Just what did Lamm do to you for you to be here?" 'I swear to the Sting, if he hurt this child in the same manner as he hurt me, then there will be Hell to pay.'
|Gadriel the Lost|
As the others begin to enter the building behind her, the small girl edges closer to the window. An obvious escape route at least pulling her subconsciously. Fear and apprehension cloud her face, but the strange monkey on her shoulder appears to be studying everyone intently without any sign of fear. She finally steps up to the window ledge, turns to face the room before crouching down tucking her knees to her chest. Her balancing reminds you of a local finch, with its legs tuck up under it to avoid the cold, perched on a clothes line in the early morning.
"We are here because we were given a card, like your card. Abu thinks others may have been hurt by the man like us." Her voice is strained, raspy and obviously infrequently used. "We don't know of home. Do you mean where we sleep? We will go back later when we are done. Abu says we should meet the others, that maybe the man could be hurt like the man hurt us." A soft but disturbing growl emanates from the throat of the monkey on her shoulder, its eyes briefly flashing a glowing yellow. "Oh, and Abu wants to eat the man’s eyes," she states as a matter of fact.
"We are here where we were called," the child replies. She holds up a harrow card, much like the others have already shown. "Abu says others were hurt by the man. We would like to make him stop." The strange monkey on her shoulder growls a reminder, and the child gives a strange smile. "Yes, and Abu want's to eat the man's eyes."
A dark, unnatural aura seems to radiate from the child. It is hard to tell if it is magic, or something deeper. Either way, nothing is ordinary about her or her 'pet.' The monkey on her shoulder hops off and scampers over to the table. Grabbing a chunk of bread, he runs back and hands it to her. The small child rips a piece off for the monkey who settles back onto her shoulder before she begins to nibble on the food. "We are Gadriel, and Abu." As if on cue the monkey shrieks, startling everyone slightly. What's strange, you could swear the monkey is laughing behind its too-smart eyes as everyone jumps.
At Abu's screech, Korriban jumps a bit. He stares for a bit before shrugging and returning to his bread. At the fact that she doesn't have a home, his head droops a bit, obviously upset by this fact. 'Oh, man. No home? It's like looking into my past.' At the revelation that she was abused by Lamm, he stands ramrod straight, a deep scowl forming and pure fury and anger in his formerly cheery eyes. It's such a dramatic change from his happy, joking persona that it unnerves everyone in the room. He turns to Gadriel and speaks in a voice that's laced in ice. "Well then, Gadriel. It would be honor to get revenge on Lamm with you. The fact that he's still abusing children angers me. For I know the pain of his hand well. In fact, it nearly killed me. I refuse to let him hurt another child. When I kill him, I will personally hand Abu his eyes for vengeance is desperately needed. Also, if you need a place to stay or a home, even temporary, know that I can provide a home to you. I'm positive that Mother won't mind."
|Gadriel the Lost|
Adoros eases up alittle, his hand still on his sword hilt but not gripping it as tightly as he considers Korriban, "I am considered 'fun-loving' by my friends but alas we have only just met so perhaps we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I am not usually so prickly, it's this issue with mysterious strangers slipping into my chambers and leaving notes on a senstive subject that have me riled up. Let us start again. Greetings, I am Adoros... Porthis." He extends his hand toward the pony-tailed Varisian man.
Bluff: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Adoros scans the room again, commiting faces and names to memory as he moves to stand next to the table. He gives a shallow bow to everyone, "Ladies and gentlemen, it would seem we share a common hatred for Lamm. For that reason, does any amongst us harbor some secret desire not to have the scum pay for his many and varied crimes with his life? Until our host appears to illuminate their mysterious message, we should state our intentions clearly. I wish to have the man die choking upon his own vile substances but I am willing to let another have that honor if I can watch the light leave his beady little eyes. And if my property can be reclaimed from his possession. He holds something hostage that is dear to me."
|Gadriel the Lost|
"But Abu can have the mans eyes, yes?" The vicious comment seems odd coming from the small girl, almost as if the action is not tied to morallity in her world. It's certainly possible the street urchin has never learned much in the way of what is good and what is evil, aside from Lamm's abuse. "We wish him to die too, but Abu wants his eyes."