When the cards are put away, Kenan gets up and takes a walk outside to relieve himself of that beer. He does his usual sweep of the building and its alleys to see if anyone is watching him or the others.
"I sahll be there, if only to remind myself of the injustice men are capable of. And perhaps Erastil will show me a way to help her."
"I agree. We must witness her fate to the end," Istas adds.
Inside, no one seems to be paying overmuch attention to the party.
Dawn, clear and rosy for the day of Trinia's execution, brightens the eastern horizon. Perhaps the prisoner has been up all night seeking up wakefulness to extend her experience of life. Perhaps she spent the night in a wretched sleep brought on by the fatigue of continual stress. Perhaps, but most unlikely, she slept serenely in the comfort of a clear conscience. Trinia has not been seen in public since her sentence was passed, but she remains in the thoughts of much of the city.
The city wakes quickly, stirred by the promise of a second dry day and the morbid holiday spirit of the hanging of a famous villain.
Emerion:
Heather:
Istas:
Jeorik:
Kenan:
You wake up coughing. It has been a rough night. While dressing you notice an exceedingly tender bruise rising on your left forearm. A quick examination reveals a few others.
Fort:
For DM:
In the morning you notice Father Corvin is absent at prayers. Seeking him out, you find him in his cell. Apparently he has been up all night reading. He has not found anything exactly matching the symptoms of this illness.
"Quite unusual not to find you at morning prayers, Father," Istas greets him, "Careful you don't skip a passage from lack of sleep and miss an important clue to what causes this illness."
"My friends and I are going into the city to witness the execution of the girl they've accused of murdering the king," she explains her interruption, "I hope Pharasma has a good fate in store for her. A speedy judgement, at least...before sending her on to her final reward. A reward befitting an innocent needlessly slain. I still cannot fathom why the queen's councilors wouldn't have commissioned a diviner or even one of our own to discern the truth of the matter."
"When we get back, I'll be sure to check on you. Make sure the acolytes bring some food..."
Heading for the school, Emerion tries to gauge the feel of the city, wondering what the day will bring and praying to Desna that it there will be good fortune somewhere in the future for the people, and for Trinia.
Fort check:
Required roll
Heather looks blearily into the mirror and shudders..."This can't be good " she mutters just before another racking coughing fit overcomes her..
She forces herself to get dressed, wrapping a scarf tightly over her mouth and makes a slow and painful journey to the gates of the Temple of Pharasma.
"I..need ..to see..Istas" she tells the gatekeeper etween more rasping coughs..her voice sounds harsh to her own ears and the pain in her joints nags constanly at her.
CrimsonDM
Kenan spends a while alone and then moves off to the appointed time and place for meeting the rest. Now that the plague is spreading, he decides to go tooled up with his weapons and armour in evidence for the first time. His hair he ties up into a neat tail just in case.
Jeorik promises his uncle not to do anything rash. Nevertheless, he plans on attending the execution armed, wearing those items that will identify him as working for Croft.
Out and about the town during the day, the town has a morbid holiday feel. People on the streets are working less than usual; they are talking, mostly in excitedly hushed tones, about Trinia's case and execution at sunset tonight.
Heather:
The attendants at Grey's gate admit Heather to the grounds and send her up to the temple to look for Istas.
Istas:
Father Corvin mutters a few platitudes about Trinia, but he's clearly itching to get back to his reading. Also, "I'd like to take a look at another case. What was the name of the patient you sent to the Dawnflower?"
Kenan:
Emerion:
Ten bouts, you take 2. Last time you fenced with him you took 7 of 10 and had been averaging 5 for months before that.
Afterward, the old fencing master thanks you over mugs of fine mulled wine and cigars. The conversation wanders wildly, aging and youth, the nature of passion, and Orsini's fascination with and deep affection for Korvosa.
At the door on your way out, Orsini gives you a purse, (an advance of 200 gp on your salary) and makes sure you still have your key to the school. It is late afternoon when you leave for the execution.
Emerion will thank Orsini effusively, but warn him about the plague before he departs as it may impact the school, and makes his way up toward the meeting place with the others, mulling in his mind which would be more effective, a mithral chain shirt or simply enchanting the one he has.
For DM:
Father Corvin mutters a few platitudes about Trinia, but he's clearly itching to get back to his reading. Also, "I'd like to take a look at another case. What was the name of the patient you sent to the Dawnflower?"
"Her name is Tauni Voe, Father," Istas explains, "A Varisian. I'd appreciate your looking in on her as well."
Heather asks the gatekeeper to send a message up to the main temple as she doesn't want to expose people to the sickness by walking through it.
She keeps well away from him as she does.
On the way to the trial, Kenan swings by the river quarter and goes to see how the six or seven from yesterday are doing. He also visits a couple of temples to buy healing kits and continue spreading the word.
You meet up and walk down toward Castle Korvosa. As you approach you notice that the carpenters have been busy. A tall wide hangman's scaffold has been erected in front of the main gate to the castle. The floor of the scaffold is fully 30' above the top of the great truncated pyramid on which the castle sits.
Even when you reach the cordon of Korvosan Guards at the foot of the pyramid, you can still see the scaffold platform clearly. Many-hued pennants hang from lines descending from the castle parapet to the rail of the scaffold. A great hanging showing the crest of the city hangs over the main gate. Its height and position have made the scaffold a stage which mimics the proportions of the castle behind it.
The Guards' dress uniforms are especially clean for the occasion and all sport a gleaming silvered shortsword and dagger. Jeorik's garb and badge allow you all to pass through the cordon of Guards and begin the long climb up the stairs to the pyramid's top. A row of Grey Maidens in gleaming mail with long crimson capes and long swords stands along the edge of the wide plaza that is the pyramid's top. The blank faces of their helmets have been polished so brightly that you can see your reflection, albeit somewhat distorted, in them. A dozen Maidens stand at intervals along the castle parapets.
The plaza is full of the cream of Korvosan society, nobles, wealthy merchants, powerful individuals. They and their families are dressed in somber hues for the most part, but you can't mistake the quality of their clothes or of the copious jewelry they display.
Is there any overhang or nearby high-point by which one could approach the scaffold without passing the guards (eg such as by dropping a rope down?). Failing that, is there any obvious approach to the scaffold that the prisoner will be taken along that passes beneath such an overhang?
DM
Kenan makes a casual scan of the crowd looking for potential trouble, and to see what guards and exit routes there are back away from the main gate. He always wants at least one way out and will stand fairly near that.
Heather and Istas:
The scaffold stands in the middle of the 50 x 70 clear area on top of the pyramid in front of the castle. The only taller thing nearby is the castle itself. The scaffold is built over a set of arches. Presumably Trinia will be led out the castle gate, through the arches, and up the set of stairs at the front of the scaffold.
There is a line of Iron Maidens all around the edge of the area. You will have to get through that line to leave. The easiest way to leave is down the long stairway that was added to the Mastaba when the castle was built on top. It is, however, perfectly feasible to descend the sides of the pyramid, but that will be a process of jumping down from one stone course to the next, 3 or 4 feet per drop. There's also the line of Korvosan Guards around teh base of the pyramid.
The flat area in front of the castle is filled with a throng of people. When I used the word "clear" above I meant clear of structures. Moving through the crowd requires you to start, stop, and soemtimes push your way through the crowd. This group is unlikely to cause trouble; it is the top echelon of society after all.
Emerion is in good health (as far as I know!), but eyes the arrangement of security glumly. Clearly someone is taking no chances.
Earlier(for Istas and DM)
At the Execution site Heather lets her eyes drift across the line of faceless grey Maidens their helms disguising any humanity they mat have and shuddes a little..this is not the way of Korvosa it feels more and more as if Cheliax is dragging the city back into its's orbit
For DM and Heather:
Heather lets Istas know that she weems to have contracted the disease..she does this before the priestess can even reach her..and hopes that her friend can help her.
Istas grimly nods. "It is inevitable that we too will be exposed to the disease," she states, "Oddly, I have suffered no ill effects. A blessing from the Lady of Graves, perhaps? I take it as a sign she favors the course I've chosen to follow in opposing Urgathoa's followers until they're all dead and sent to the Boneyard for judgement."
She takes care in examining Heather for a few moments just inside the temple. "It is but the earliest stage of the ailment," she explains, "An inconvenience, certainly. But nothing that would debilitate you like the more advanced cases Kenan and I have seen these past few days. For now, I'd suggest you take care not to expose anyone else. Perhaps wear a scarf about your face...or a veil. When I speak to Father Corvin again, I'll ask him to examine you. He already asked to review another case. Yours would give him the opportunity to study the ailment from the very first symptoms."
"In the meantime," she suggests, "I'm headed up to the Mastaba." It's clear Istas has a hard time thinking of the pyramid-shaped mound where Castle Korvosa sits as anything other than the name her people used for it. "Trinia's execution should be within the next few hours. I would see her fate to its conclusion so I may pray for her soul as it goes to Pharasma's judgement."
Many-hued pennants hang from lines descending from the castle parapet to the rail of the scaffold. A great hanging showing the crest of the city hangs over the main gate. Its height and position have made the scaffold a stage which mimics the proportions of the castle behind it.
Istas sniffs at the sight of the scaffold.
"A brutal manner of death," she notes aloud, "Of all the myriad ways to send our spirits to the Boneyard, they choose this...and to make a spectacle of it. Death should be an intimate thing. I pity poor Trinia..."
A row of Grey Maidens in gleaming mail with long crimson capes and long swords stands along the edge of the wide plaza that is the pyramid's top. The blank faces of their helmets have been polished so brightly that you can see your reflection, albeit somewhat distorted, in them. A dozen Maidens stand at intervals along the castle parapets.
Istas coolly appraises the Maidens. 'Faceless and nameless,' she surmises to herself, 'Hiding behind a falsehood of power and prestige. There are higher standards to which a warrior-woman should hold herself.'
"I'm as hale and hearty as ever," Istas assures him, her eyes never leaving the blank faceplates of the Grey Maidens, "Though Heather here has contracted the earliest stage of the illness, I'm afraid. I plan on taking her to see Father Corvin tomorrow."
Emerion is in good health (as far as I know!), but eyes the arrangement of security glumly. Clearly someone is taking no chances.
"So much trouble to prosecute the innocent."
"So much trouble to prosecute the innocent."
"This is nothing more than a move to placate those who want answers for how their king died," Istas mutters to Jeorik, "As if his old age wasn't reason enough. But no, the aristocrats and the commoners need someone to blame. A tangible person against which they may vent their fear, frustration, and rage."
"Besides," she makes a sour face, "You Southlanders have always enjoyed your pomp and circumstance. Any occasion to commemorate the champion or denigrate the fallen. Today, we see someone they've chosen to push over the edge, so she'll become one of the fallen. But what if her spirit flies instead of plummeting? What then, I wonder?"
"Heather, my dear, you should not be here! If you have the first stage of the illness, then it could spread here to the castle ..."
Heathers eyes glare at Emerion over the scarf wound tightly around her mouth.."Istas believes this should be sufficient to prevent my infecting those around me" she whispers the sound muffled further by the scarf..
"Do not presume to tell me my duty Emerion Brightsmith...I have to witness this." her eyes moisten "we could have saved her..we should have saved her, got her out off the city, covered her escape anything..but we did our duty to Korvosa and its laws.I talked her into giving herself up..I promised she would have fair trial..and for that my punishment will be to..watch..her..die"
The sorceress turns her attention back to the scaffold
Three heralds dressed in the red, black and gold royal livery step out onto one of the castle's balconies, raise their circular brass hunting horns to their lips, and blast out the Arbasti fanfare. The crowd quiets down and turns expectantly toward the balcony. The heralds step to one side.
Queen Ileosa steps through red drapes and emerges on the balcony. She looks poised, confident, in front of the crowd. Her dress is green and cream in color and flows in the unmistakable fashion of silk. Sabina Merrin, clad in her gleaming silver-edged plate, stands behind Ileosa and to the right. Her head swings left and right as she scans the crowd. An honor guard of six Grey Maidens makes a line behind them.
Applause and cheering rise from the crowd, slowly at first, but the volume builds. Ileosa waves and drinks it in.
Heathers eyes narrow as the Queen basks in the crowds adulation..
"She's enjoying this..typical Ileosa..quite the most vain girl I ever met..not that she remembers meeting me..I wasn't male.Still she shouldn't be enjoying this quite so much"
Another peal of unseen horns followed by a trudging bass drum beat. The inner gate swings open and a small procession emerges. Two Sable Company Marines lead the procession. They stiffly carry vertical pikes as they step forward a half pace for each slow beat of the drum. Next, presumably because it's hard to see through the crowd, comes Trinia. She's flanked by two Grey Maidens. The executioner comes last. He is an immense man who bears an equally immense double-headed axe.
From the crowd come hisses of scorn and derision, especially from those closest to the platform. Somewhere to your left someone sighs, "Poor girl."
At the stairs the Marines stand aside. Trinia, you can see her clearly now on the stairs, the Grey Maidens and the headsman ascend to the platform. Trinia moves slowly, with a stoop to her back. Although she's unshackled, she looks as if she's dragging a heavy weight. She is quite pale. Her hair hangs lankly. Her hands are bound behind her back.
The Grey Maidens march Trinia to the front of the platform beside the heavy chopping block where she can be seen by the entire crowd. Then they relinquish her to the headsman.
"Oh I never said it would be a bad thing," Emerion chuckles at Heathers typical - for her - response. "Some here deserve that plague, of that I am sure." He looks coldly at the platform, "It seems we aren't the only ones who doubt the guilt of the poor entertainer."
While Heather and Emerion discuss her illness, Istas keeps her attention on Trinia. A whispered prayer comes to her lips to better bond with the poor girl's mind.
"Besides," she makes a sour face, "You Southlanders have always enjoyed your pomp and circumstance. "
"Are you telling me that you Shoanti don't enjoy a good spectacle," says Jeorik with wry humor, "But you northlanders paint with too broad a brush. Give me a straightforward court-martial anyday. With your average soldier at least you know where you stand. This city is as foreign to me as to you."
Jeorik grows silent as the queen appears and he scans the crowd, trying to read its mood. He knows that whatever his future in Korvosa is, he will think twice before handing an innocent person over to its courts again.
Another short fanfare from the balcony. The crowd quiets as the queen raises her hand and speaks, “Fellow Korvosans! You have suffered greatly these past few weeks. Homes have burned, family members have died, fortunes have been lost. I feel your suffering, for not only have I lost a beloved husband, but with each riot, each burning home, each act of anarchy, my heart bleeds a little more. This has been a trying time for us, yet the torment is at an end. Before you is the face of your anguish and pain.
"Do not be deceived by this murderer’s timid nature—she is a black-hearted assassin, a seductress and sinner, a viper amidst us all. I offer you all her death as a salve against the hatred and hurt you have suffered.
"Her death will not rebuild Korvosa, nor will it bring back the king,
yet tomorrow will be a new dawn—a dawn over a city ready to rise
from the edge of anarchy to become stronger than ever before!
And so, without further delay, let us usher in this new dawn
with justice! OFF WITH HER HEAD!”
The crowd cheers as the executioner pushes Trinia to her knees and begins to position her head on the block.
Istas:
"If your thinking about pulling a 'Blackjack' this is your last chance"Heather hisses to Emerion.."I'll do what I can to help"
She begins to draw the forces off magic into her forming in her mind the vision of a thick gooey spiders web.
Istas ignores the queen's words. They are meaningless in the face of an innocent woman's death, after all. Instead, she keeps her eyes locked on Trinia, staring hard, almost as if soaking in her moment of death...or trying to will away the momentary pain the axe will bring. If she could ease the passage of Trinia's spirit into the Great Beyond by projecting a feeling of empathy and calm to the girl, it's clear the priestess would surely do so.
Kenan sees what is happening with the party and hisses to Heather and Emerion, "are you planning something? with all these guards? you mad?"
Perception DC 21:
A black bundle shoots from the castle wall onto the platform and knocks the Grey Maidens over the edge.
Focused so intently on Trinia, it takes Istas a moment to even recognize something or someone has disrupted the proceedings...though she quirks a somewhat bemused eyebrow at the tumbling Grey Maidens. Switching targets from Trinia to the dark bundle, the priestess attempts to ascertain who it might be...or at least its intentions, assuming it's a living creature.
perception
Heather is about to answer Keenan when ..the unbelievable happens..the figure sliding into view is one from childrens stories..a myth.."Blackjack?" she gasps almost losing her grip on the tendrils of magical force she has gathered.As the figure tumbles the Gray Maidens to the ground she almost cheers managing at the last second to stop herself
Emerion reverses his coat and slides his scarf over his face.
"If your thinking about pulling a 'Blackjack' this is your last chance"Heather hisses to Emerion.."I'll do what I can to help"
Perception:
"I think someone beat me to it," Emerion mutters. Dipping his shoulder he strives to move through the crowd toward the platform.
The black bundle rises from the platform, showing itself to be a masked black-clad man. Blackjack! ripples through the crowd. And it begins to swirl. Some people deciding the platform is where they want to be; others deciding any other location would be better. The Grey Maidens lining the end of the Mastaba hesitate.
As Blackjack steps toward Trinia, the headsman steps toward him, swinging his broad-bladed axe high and bringing it down with all the force he can muster. Blackjack dodges easily to one side. He's behind the executioner even before the blade lodges in the platform and a whirling kick combines with the headsman's momentum to send him staggering across the platform.
Seemingly instantly, Blackjack has a dagger out and is cutting the bonds on Trinia's hands. He shouts out to the crowd as much as to the queen, “Yes indeed, my queen! Let us usher in justice, but let that
be justice for Korvosa, not this shambles you petulantly call
a monarchy! Long live Korvosa! Down with the Queen!”
The crowd twitches and writhes like a swarm of snakes. A few people take up the call "Down with the Queen!" especially among the commoners at the foot of the Mastaba. On top of the pyramid, the scene is more confused. Some nobles and others snarl with rage at the legendary black-clad folk-hero. Many stand paralyzed. Others draw steel and begin to push through the crowd toward the platform.
The two Sable Company Marines spin around and begin charging up the stairs. On the balcony Sabina Merrin and her honor guard step in front of the queen to shield her from any threat.
"Who is that masked man?"
Jeorik moves behind Emerion, not quite realizing the other man is trying to go incognito.
Heather whispers the final word off the spell and the stairs are engulfed in sticky strands off web.
20' radius web cast to trap the Marines and leave Blackjack out off the radius..hopefully the crowd has masked her casting.Anchor points are the wall and the scaffold
"Who is that masked man?"
"Someone with enough sense to conceal his identity!" Emerion hisses over his shoulder. He has already recognised the lightning-fast fighting-style, and he knows one other person present who will also know it well ...
Emerion aims to push through the crowd to get close to the scaffold but has to change course to avoid the webbed people and the web itself.
"I'm not sure he's going to need our help."
Nevertheless, Jeorik unslings his bow and continues pressing forward through the crowd.
Seemingly instantly, Blackjack has a dagger out and is cutting the bonds on Trinia's hands. He shouts out to the crowd as much as to the queen, “Yes indeed, my queen! Let us usher in justice, but let that be justice for Korvosa, not this shambles you petulantly call a monarchy! Long live Korvosa! Down with the Queen!”
A rare grin spreads across Istas' face as she exults in this turn of events. "Oh, what a fate you have in store for us," the priestess breathes in honor of Pharasma. Even as her spell helps grant some measure of insight into the minds of those around her, she keeps it attuned primarily to Trinia for now. After all, it should help her know how best to aid the girl and her rescuer.
Standing among the throng, Istas can see her friends already moving to counteract those who would stop Blackjack. Another invocation comes to her mind and the priestess utters a new prayer to her goddess.