GM Litejedi's Curse of the Crimson Throne - Anniversary Edition

Game Master Litejedi

Marcus accepts his reward with a silent inclination of his head. But finally his composure cracks when she offers them a hand at the execution. His eyes open a hair in surprise, then narrow in suspicion. Particularly as he was called out specifically.

Although he did not revel in it, he did not share his companions disgust for killing in cold blood. It was not the first time he had done it. It would not be his last opportunity either. They had certainly earned it, given what they had done.

Oddly enough it was not the killing that disturbed him, but her asking. This was some kind of show. Some kind of political move. Some kind of theater he did not fully understand. He hears his companion's refusals and the wiser part of him concludes it is best to follow their lead.

Then he sees the look Yazi gives him...and he feels a flash of pain in his chest, deep where Davaulus had skewered him. He felt the anger strike like a bolt of white-hot lightning. With a contained snarl he steps forward.

Marcus moves straight to Davaulus, past the other prisoners. On the way he snatches the executioner's axe, holding it with white knuckles. He grabs Davaulus by the collar, lifting him fully into the air. He stares at him with a dark glower, searching for the clever bastard that had skewered him...

And finding nothing.

He's not even here. Marcus sets him back down. The queen's words ring through his head again. The blinding red starts to seep away, and his hands tremble on Davaulus's shirt as he realizes how close he came to stepping right into her trap. If she hadn't drugged him beyond recognition, he likely would have continued.

Marcus turns to face the queen. His composure was shaken, but not broken. "Justice does not hold grudges. It does not lash out or revel in cruelty, or put on a show." He crosses the platform to the executioner, handing him back the weapon hilt-first. "Cut clean." He says simply, but the implication is heavy. Do not be cruel, for we gain nothing by stooping to their level.

Queen Illeosa approaches Marcus, and gently lays a hand on his shoulder. This elicits gasps from some in attendance, but she looks him in the eye, and adds quietly, ”I understand.” She steps back and nods at the executioner ”as he said - make it fast. We have had enough suffering.”

The headsman doesn’t respond, but the grey maidens move each of the physicians and Davaulus into place, and quickly and cleanly, their heads are removed by the sharp axe.

The remains are gathered together, to be taken to the Grey. Davaulus’ body is kept separate from the others, destined for some other location

Somberly, she turns back to the crowd, ”lastly - I have some important news for you all. These times have been difficult. Even though we have a cure for much of the city Korvosa remains wounded. The Order of the Nail has shown its true colors and fled like cowards into Citadel Vraid. Worse, both the Korvosan Guard and the Sable Company have suffered terrible losses over the past weeks. Neither group is fully capable of continuing as Korvosa’s protectors, and thus, to shore up this fault, I name the Gray Maidens as the official new protectors of Korvosa, appointing Sabina Merrin as the city’s new general.”

Kroft frowns deeply, and Marcus Endrin - he looks like he’s going to be sick, with barely concealed anger.

A ripple of concerned whispers spreads, and Queen Ileosa turns her attention to the Sable Company. ”Regarding the Sable Company - we looked at this from every angle that we could and came to the following conclusions - the care and feeding of the company’s hippogriff mounts places too great a strain on the city’s coffers; the company’s was unable to truly help to deal with the recent unrest; and the company’s commander, Seneschal Neolandus Kalepopolis, fled the city rather than stay by her side in her time of need. This leads to only one unfortunate conclusion - I have decided to disband the organization and seize its holdings. Commandant Endrin, please step forth to surrender your badge of office.”

As Endrin does so, he trembles. He reaches for his badge, but instead of handing it over, he throws it at the queen, striking her cheek. Everyone, queen included, is shocked into paralysis for a few moments, long enough for Endrin to bellow out, “Your shameful reign ends now! Korvosa will be free again!” An instant later, his bow is in his hands, aimed at the still-frozen queen.

Endrin fires and his aim is true. The arrow strikes Queen Ileosa in the right temple, sinking deep into her skull.

Yet she does not fall.

With incredible, supernatural speed, she regains her composure and yanks the arrow from her skull. Before blood from the wound has time to run all the way down to her jaw, she’s standing before Endrin. Her free hand whips out and seizes him by the throat, lifting him off the ground and holding him up for all to see. An instant later, she stabs Endrin’s own arrow up under his jaw and out the side of his face with a spray of blood.

As Endrin’s body crumples to the ground and Ileosa imperiously shakes his blood from her hand, she cries out in a strong, clear voice, “This shall be the fate of all enemies of Korvosa! Mark well his punishment! It is only the first!” A moment later, before anyone has a chance to react, the bigger man steps forward, taking Ileosa’s hand, and they disappear.

The crowd stands up, and it is anarchy. Whatever is about to happen will not be pleasant, and as if reacting to that, Sabina draws her weapon menacingly, and steps towards the party, and half of the maidens have bows pointed at the group, but Cressida Kroft intervenes and holds up her hand towards the newly appointed general, ”no, no. No. General, we had no idea this would happen.”

The woman glowers at them, ”fine. Leave, now, and hope our paths do not cross again.” She moves to direct the maidens to restrain, forcefully, those who started to throw rocks towards the stage.

Kroft turns to the party, and says ”Go home now,” and the force of her words are as much of a forceful order as the party has heard her make. She is not unkind, when she adds, in a loud whisper over the din ”come to the citadel in… three days time. Or when you get a message from me.” She looks down and Endrin, and opens her mouth, then closes it, a thin line.

Marcus's eyes go wide as the queen lays a hand on him. Of all the responses, that was one he didn't expect. Then as she twists his words to ally herself with his sentiment, he lowers his brows. Of course.

He shifts and his frown deepens at the announcement of the grey maidens. But it is the Sable Company disbandment that shocks him. So shocked he was not ready for the ensuing violence, and had barely stepped forward by the time the queen vanished.

Chaos breaks out and everything collapses in, pressuring him to do...nothing. Every muscle fiber in his body strains to act. He raises an arm to ward off a rock, then moves to place himself between the party and the crowd. He looks down at Endrin, face twitching. But the bouncing rocks off his back gave him clarity. "Yazi, grab the body. Let's retreat. I'll clear a path through the crowd. We need to regroup."

Did we see where Davaulus's body went? Is it gone already?

Sabina steps forward, drawing her falchion and makes a command. The majority of the grey maidens with bows turn to the party, and arrows are nocked and pointed at them.

Kroft moves her body to intercede, and says ”no. No. They were just leaving.” She turns her head and hisses, ”just run. Now.”

Davaulus’ body was taken somewhere different from the grey.

The retired guardswoman is glad that Marcus does not take the bait. Yet as events continue to unfold she is horrified. She is frozen in shock as the head of her House's longest ally tries and somehow fails to assassinate the Queen. She glances out towards the crowd, looking around for Enzo and Catherine as chaos breaks loose. Maybe they had delayed. Maybe they weren't here. Please let them not be here for this.

Spellcraft, Free Inspiration: 1d20 + 13 + 1d6 ⇒ (6) + 13 + (6) = 25

Not merely teleportation, but high-level, highly accurate teleportation. Whoever that man was, he was powerful. The Queen had a powerful wizard as an ally.

As weapons are drawn, Olenna's sword arm tenses. She was swift, but she could not dodge a flurry of arrows. She looks to Cressida who vouches for them, and whispers her thanks.

The Sable Company, disbanded. Marcus Endrin, killed. The Grey Maidens, in charge. The Queen had wound the end of the Plague she had wrought on Korvosa to her advantage anyway and consolidated power further.

"We're going," she says, hands raised deferentially. She backs away, exchanging glances with the others. Now is not the time. We're not counted as enemies of the state yet, so let's not go down like Endrin.

When Marcus steps forward to execute the prisoners, it's too much for Yaziyah and the Shoanti turns her face away. She didn't want to see them killed - not by Marcus, not by anyone. It didn't feel like justice, just more of the queens nebulous plots.

Thus, she almost misses it - Commander Endrin's rebellion, his assassination attempt, and then the incredible display from Ileosa herself. Had she anticipated this? Had she staged it? Goaded Endrin like she had goaded Marcus? Did that fat man cast spells on her to prepare for such an eventuality? Because there was clearly magic at work here, no spoiled aristocrat who hasn't lifted a thing in her life could so effortlessly lift a man twice her weight and stab an arrow through his skull.

She is still processing all that when the order from Kroft comes, so she raises her head to take stock of the situation. The hostile Grey Maidens, the hostile crowd, Marcus saying something about a body - she reaches out, mechanically, before the effect registers. No, they would not be taking this body. With a final glance at the blood-covered platform, she straightens her shoulders and turns on her heel, back straight, body rigid with tension, expecting to hear the twang of bowstrings and the whistle of arrows in the next heartbeat.

Just a body. Just mud. Let it go. Marcus turns and walks away.

Magda did not look away when the wall cracked. All of these days had heaped more and more weight on its shoulders until it could handle No More. Then a fault in the hard stone broke a brick apart, and...

no

... a broken stone was not enough to bring the wall down.

Despite the hell of this moment, Magda smiled. Relieved, weary, but a bright one nonetheless.

Then killing and blood followed instantly her CITY scratching into her brain, murmured words barely understood.

runrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunh iderunrunrunrunhiderunrunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhider unrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhi derunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunru nrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunru nrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhideru nrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhid erunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderun runhide runrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunh iderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhider unrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhi derunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunru nhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunru nrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrunhideru nrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunrunhiderunrunhiderunrunrunrunhiderunrun hide

The frantic droning noise hammered into her skull like a thousand rats running away. The shaman stumbles, she falls to her knee to a strained whimper.

Olenna sees Magda's pace falter, and she lunges to her side.

The half-elf hooks an arm under the half-orc's arm and hoists her up, ready to offer a shoulder to falter away.

Fun fact: the vocabulary and grammar of Varisian are based on a mix of Orc, Taldane, Giant, ancient Thassilonian, and a now defunct proto-Varisian language. Similarly, Shoanti has many similarities to Hallit, Varisian, Giant, and ancient Thassilonian. The linguist in Olenna will want to learn Hallit and Giant eventually, and possibly try to rediscover Proto-Varisian, but she's got a lot of the rest already!

Glad you carried on as I fell behind on this game. I've caught up with a lot of reading, and will try to ride the wave from here!

It had been such a pleasant many hours. Finally, time together with Ishani, a wonderful party, Magda dressed up like a princess. Gifts, gifts, and more gifts--even a client handing over her late father's spellbook.

And now, to be praised by the Queen before all the peoples of the town? And given a handsome reward? Was the Queen just a fool? For a moment, she could almost believe it again. The Queen had such high praise for them, and even handled Magda with grace as she seemed to undermine her authority. If Vera could just overlook the strangely drugged form of Davalus, it would all fit together fine, just fine.

And then, it all became undone. Not just at the seams, no. Instead, the entire facade torn asunder, as the queen seized control of the city and defied death itself to slay her would-be assassin.
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (16) + 15 = 31
And magical power far beyond Vera's grasp. And madness descending on the city, and on their group.

"Magda!" she cries, as her best friend falters. She's right there with Olenna to help Magda up, even if she wasn't half as strong. Even though she could feel dozens of Grey Maidens with their bows pointed at them. "We have to go," she says, unwittingly repeating Olenna's words. "Please."

A weak groan comes from Mags, but she nods and finds her feet again, leaning on flamehair and Vera, as she shuffles out. Every step has her getting used to the drone, like a smell you hate but can go blind to. Everything is like that, ignore ignore ignore.

"We did they let us live?" she asks when she is able to again.

"We did they let us live?" she asks when she is able to again.

Marcus snarls a single word, full of contempt and disgust.

"Politics."

He forges the path forward, looking for the path of least resistance. Frays are swept to the side as Marcus's immense frame acts like the tip of an axe, wedging a split that opens up for what comes behind it. "We spend the night in my barracks. It isn't comfortable, but in case anybody wants to take a public shot at any of us, they won't expect us all to be staying there. And even if they do there's a lot of men with swords they'd have to go through."

Yaziyah nods at Marcus's explanation, then adds, bitterness in her voice. "We're big heroes." She reaches into her pocket, crumpling the writ in her fist, tempted for a moment to shred the thing to pieces.

Restraint. Restraint. You saw what giving into his anger did to that poor man.

Once they are out of immediate danger, the Shoanti reaches out a hand, seeking Marcus's shoulder. It's as much meant as a reassuring gesture for him as it is her need to feel something solid while reality seems like it's shifting and slipping away from her.

"Alright. Let's go. We'll figure this out." There's not a lot of conviction in her tone, but it's the best that she can muster right now.

Welcome back, Vera!

Olenna doesn't object to holing up in Marcus' barracks. She rubs at the bangle around her wrist, knowing that Enzo is safe and that he knows that she is as well. They'll just have to trust each other.

On the way to Marcus' barracks, Olenna begins thinking through the Korvosan City Charter and its 247 amendments, trying to find some legal trap that could be used to depose Queen Ileosa. Once in relative privacy, she launches into a monologue, as much out of nervous energy as a desire to inform her companions.

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 15 + 1d6 ⇒ (10) + 15 + (2) = 27
Knowledge (nobility): 1d20 + 8 + 1d6 ⇒ (15) + 8 + (5) = 28

"So. Figuring this out. It clearly doesn’t matter to her, and perhaps not to the rest of the civilians of Korvosa, but I wonder if the Queen has actually been following the Korvosan City Charter. The Charter explicitly states that seven Arbiters must review any monarchical decree, and that five must accept it for it to become law. She can't unilaterally decide anything. If that hasn't happened, then her dissolution of the Sable Company cannot stand."

She continues, getting more animated. "Beyond that, even if he had pledged fealty to Queen Ileosa--which I’m sure that he did--Commandant Endrin did not answer to her. He answered to Seneschal Neolandus Kalepopolis, wherever the Hells he is. He was well within his rights to oppose the Queen’s tyrannical behavior. Calling him an enemy of Korvosa was patently incorrect."

More than that. Olenna wanted to clear Endrin's name from such b$*!@##$. He deserved much more in death than to be considered a traitor. Maybe they could run their own broadsheets to get a counternarrative out.

She leans back against the wall, stopping her pacing for a moment. "Legally, Field Marshal Kroft should be able to retain her position with the Guard, for whatever that’s worth, as long as Archbanker Tuttle wants her there. The Queen cannot remove her without the Church’s agreement. The Field Marshal probably recognizes that direct action won't work, given what just happened to Commandant Endrin. We should check with Ishani on where the Archbanker stands in all this, just to be safe."

Olenna sighs long and heavy. "Anyway, military options are probably out. I would say that we ought to appeal to the Peerage Review, but the Great Houses seem to be in as much disarray as the rest of the city. Didn't you all just hear a rumor that Zenobia Zenderholm had died? And House Arkona is probably marooned, quarantined in Old Korvosa. Even if we could get the other four members on board, they couldn’t even remove the Queen from power. She could be evicted if all five representatives of the Great Houses, the absent seneschal, and a randomly chosen arbiter voted unanimously to do so. So, doubtful."

The former guardswoman gesticulates wildly with her hands. "It’s mad. The Queen has figured out exactly how to prevent anyone from properly opposing her. The seneschal could have functionally imprisoned her by sealing the castle and calling for the Sable Company to man and guard it. But there is no seneschal, and Field Marshal Kroft hasn't chosen his replacement for reasons I don't understand. It would have been--should have been--Commandant Endrin. But the Seneschal has always been chosen from among the leadership of the Sable Company. No Sable Company: no new Seneschal."

The byzantine laws of Korvosa were odd--who had power over whom, and such--but there were certain benefits to be exploited if you knew your way around the system. Olenna throws up her hands in exasperation. "And even then, she's got a wizard with her! Without some magic to prevent teleportation, she could just get in and out anyway."

The half-elf begins cursing in every language she knows until finally she slumps to the floor. She was spinning out. A trembling hand reaches for a vial around her neck. No. Keep your thoughts clear.

"I think we need to find the Seneschal. Somehow. Or at least ask Cressida why she hasn't done anything about his succession when we meet with her." She looks up at the three spellcasters. "Can any of you scry? And if so, had any of you met Neolandus prior to his disappearance? It would be best if we had something of his, but we just have to make do for now."

He’s been missing for more than a year, in the game timeline. They were low level - they never would have interacted with him before he disappeared. Only Kroft knows why he wasn’t replaced, but clever PCs might be able to guess as to why. As to why all these laws are important, this is a lawful city! All of the laws are important to the city structure.

Marcus nods solidly to Yazi's words, his face the uncracked slate the party has gotten to used to. The imminent threat of death had given Marcus clarity, and resolve. He did not know how to handle all the other matters of subterfuge and misdirection going on, but he knew how to keep people alive.

Marcus listen's quietly to Olenna's monologue. At the end he hacks and spits. "Rules don't matter to a tyrant. They don't apply." He shakes his head and grumbles. "Usually steel is what matters, but that didn't do anything either. That speed, that strength...I don't think she's entirely human."

Yaziyah clears her throat. "Magic can give someone strength and speed." She sounds hesitant, perhaps remembering the aversion that Marcus had voiced about magic users. "She spoke of Nidal being behind the Red Veil, but she was not born here, was she? I've been grappling with 'why' - why bring the plague to the city, why dismantle its defenses - perhaps she is working for Cheliax, to weaken and enslave Korvosa for their benefit." Her eyebrows knit together as she recalls something. "Heard some rumours the other day, that Davaulus was her personal physician there and helped her escape a terrible life." She barks a dry laugh. "How quickly she turned on him and offered him up as sacrifice. There was another thing, something about Red Mantis assassins being sighted. I wonder who hired them, and for whom." She glances at the walls around them. "If it's for us, probably a good thing to stay together for now."

"I agree with you, Marcus," Olenna breathes. "About not being entirely human. As Yazi says, there is magic that could have done all that, but it probably would not have lasted through the ceremony."

There were ways, of course. Contingency spells. Hidden tattoos to be activated. But some sort of other supernatural effect was just as likely. It was speculation, of course.

"But even if the Queen doesn't care, others might. It's a way to try to undermine her. There's only so long a tyrant can go around flagrantly disregarding the laws the city was founded on before a ripple of resistance becomes a tidal wave." She shakes her head. "I mean, unless she wants to rule over a city of corpses she can't kill everyone."

Inch by inch, Mags digs holes for the rats to go through, to distract them from telling her over and over. The mumbling horde becomes a murmur, enough she can interact. "Tricks with words won't stop her, we need to know more to stop her." she pulls herself to her feet. "I'll go see what the city says."

"What I want to know is, where are all these Grey Maidens coming from? The Queen's got a whole retinue of women soldiers who seem completely loyal to her. Where are they coming from? How is that possible?"

She starts to shuffle the Harrow deck where her mother's spirit resides. "I don't know what we're supposed to do now. Build some sort of Resistance? I don't understand." She stops shuffling, cuts the deck, and begins laying down the cards, one by one, unsure where else to look for insight.

Marcus is listening to the politicking musings of Olenna, but doesn't have the expertise to add much to it. To Vera he grumbles. "Good question. Soldiers don't come out of nowhere. To gather my company I had to scrape alleys and bars for weeks. And polish the s!%~ out of them."

Olenna's face drains of color at Vera's question. She hadn't wanted to put two and two together for a while, had denied it, and yet there was one answer to Vera's question staring her in the face, or more accurately pointing arrows at her back. "Not all, but some at least...are probably ex-Korvosan guards." Her head sinks into her hands. "Many of my colleagues quit over the last year, or else just stopped showing up. With funding cut, wages were stagnant or going down. So..."

That wouldn't have been the only source, of course, but where better to draw from than disgruntled Guards and Marines? They could still argue that they were protecting the City. Loyalty and patriotism were powerful forces that could be invoked to do terrible things.

Seeing that talking could go on for a while, Mags sighs then slips out of the barracks, to disappear into the streets.

Vera might do harrowing!

Vera is so focused shuffling the cards, she almost misses when Magda is leaving. She holds up a hand.

”Wait! Wait Magda! The harrowing. I think it’s time. Come, sit near me.”

Zellara appears again, nearby, and nods at Vera, ”begin. As we spoke. Trust your instincts, daughter.” She folds her hands and begins to wait.

Vera clears her throat. ”Okay…. Okay…” and splits the deck six times. Zellara focuses for a moment, and points at one, and Vera picks it up. Holding it flat, she gestures for everyone to take one card. As each person does, they feel a tug, slightly, a small amount. Of resistance. Zellara frowns slightly. ”I think the fates were expecting others to be here as well. Please.” She extends a hand and Vera gives her the remainder of the cards. She retrieves three and takes a look, one-by-one, before handing them back to Vera. She nods slightly.

Vera turns towards everyone, and holds her own card close to her chest, ”well, let me explain, Olenna… we have been doing these harrowings together, for a few years. It’s actually how we met. My mother helped us find Gaedren Lamm, and helped him face justice, because of one of these harrowings. So - it’s kind of like a tradition, but there’s ancient magic that can protect us, if destiny is on our side. I think that’s one of the things that kept us safe from all of the disease, earlier, actually.” She opens her hand, and displays The Joke, which depicts a bard making a large giant laugh.

She looks down, ”the cards don’t usually mean what they look like - in fact, there’s more art to the interpretation than just looking at the picture. This was my draw, but what it means is that in our next set of challenges, I will do best at helping us overcome danger using artifice, trickery.” She waits for everyone to show her their cards, then explains her interpretation.

When Yazi shows her card, The Idiot, Vera nods, ”this - this means that there may come a time when we are served well by you pretending to be a fool, letting others misjudge you.”

When Olenna shows The Inquisitor, Vera nods again and says, ”the inquisitor, despite the connotation is representative of truth, or reality. It will be important to you that you understand something that is true, or you put your trust in something you know to be immutable?”

Marcus reveals the The Wanderer Vera says, ”huh. Well, this indicates that there may come a time when Marcus would help us by trusting a cast-off, or someone nobody else wants.”

She smiles slightly when Magda reveals The Hidden Truth. ”It’s fun when the harrowing becomes obvious. As we all know, Magda is a pre-eminent expert at finding things, and seeing past falsehoods and illusions, and this means we’ll need her for that here. I’m sure it will help yet again.”

Vera extends her hand and takes a deep breath, then exhales, ”so that is the choosing, now we must do the spread. The first column represents the past.” Zellara nods as Vera flips over The Eclipse, The Carnival, and The Sickness.

She thinks a moment as Zellara watches, and Vera begins to explain, a little hesitantly, ”This card is misaligned - it usually would mean there was self-doubt, but in this position it means there were unheralded abilities. Perhaps it’s acknowledging us, and our unheralded abilities at the start of this adventure!”. She taps The Carnival. ”This isn’t misaligned, but it’s not really in the right spot, if it were in the future row it would represent us being prepared for illusions, but here it shows that there had a good understanding of the true nature of things. Maybe it shows we know the truth about Davaulus, and the queen? Or maybe there are more illusions to come?” She thinks quietly, ”if we can, we should research creatures that rely on illusions.”

She taps The Sickness and scoffs, ”well, if we wanted any more confirmation that the cure works - here it is. I think blood veil is over - though Marcus, we should probably help that blinding sickness.”

She looks up, ”okay - sorry, my mom was a lot faster. These next three are about what’s happening in the present- or the immediate future.” She reveals, The Brass Dwarf, The Owl, and The Inquisitor. She looks excited at the last one, and looks up at Zellara.

The older Varisian woman sighs, and says, ”fine.” Vera looks excited, ”Olenna, this is you! Or your card. This means that you have something very soon important to do, very soon, and it will have to do with understanding something immutable. Something true, where the truth extends past what can be seen; and where the truth is unchanging.” She clears her throat, ”sorry, it’s just - to get a match in a harrowing your first time - I think the fates or spirits have something important in store.” Zellara coughs.

Vera says, ”oh, yes. Okay, the Brass Dwarf. Well, The Brass Dwarf is invulnerable to peril. Maybe something we’ll encounter will be invulnerable? The owl at least makes sense here, and represents the importance of the wisdom of the natural order. Given the importance of this placement, we should pay special attention to unnatural things we encounter.” She seems a little distracted, and seems to be thinking.

She reveals the last three cards, revealing The Hidden Truth, The Cricket and The Keep without looking at them, ”lastly - these represent our future, or a future that may come to pass. She looks down and her voice catches, [b]”another - another match for the choosing! Mags’!” She smiles, ”fates will be with us, and especially with Magda - as long as she finds the Hidden Truth. Magda, someone is going to try to hide something from us, something enormous. Like um, like the Queen being evil. Watch for it!” She looks tired now, and says, ”well, these last two, they don’t seem to be in the right areas, but… the Cricket reminds me of Trinia, how she jumped from roof to roof. Maybe we need to talk to her again?” She looks at the keep, and opens her mouth, silently, then closes it, then just says, ”this - this shows something unshakable, unbreakable, but here - the thing getting broken, falling to temptation, undermining the walls...” She shudders a moment, and seems to gasp, the breath driven from her ”I … “ She staggers back, and shakes her head, waving off others trying to help her.

Zellara intercedes as well. ”Leave her. She must be strong. This will not be her last harrowing, and she must learn to channel the cards correctly lest the reaction next time be worse.” She turns to Vera who breathes in and out, and responds, ”I think I need to go to sleep. Okay, now you can go Mags.” She rushes over and hugs Magda, then staggers away to sleep on one of Marcus’ cots.

PCs each get three (3) Harrow points, except Olenna and Magda, who each get four (4).

Harrow Points may be spent on the following:
Arcane Wrath: A PC with levels in a class that grants bonus spells based on his Intelligence score can spend a Harrow Point to increase the power of a spell from that class’s spell list as he casts it. He increases the DC of that spell by 2 and gains both a +4 bonus on caster level checks to overcome spell resistance and a +2 bonus on any attack rolls for that spell.

Flash of Insight: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to attempt a check for a skill that requires training and in which he has no ranks. He gains a one-time +5 insight bonus on this check.

Intelligence Rerolls: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to reroll an Intelligence-based check. He must abide by the new result (although if he has additional Harrow Points remaining, he can use them to attempt additional rerolls).

At Vera's call, Mags moves over to sit next to her friend. She watches Vera throughout the entire reading, rapt as always at her skill and strength (which she knows Vera thinks she has little of, and is as wrong as a bricked up doorway.

Worry etches her brow at Vera's exhaustion. She wants to force her into bed, not a cot in a barracks but a real bed, with cookies and honeyed tea. But life is what it is now.

Mags hugs the other girl hard in return. Not thinking of any particularly great words of wisdom to impart, she slips off without another word.

three stealth tolls for three days.
stealth: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (15) + 21 = 36
stealth: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (14) + 21 = 35
stealth: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (10) + 21 = 31

Olenna has a hard time bringing herself enough into focus to truly pay attention at first, but there's something about the Harrow that helps take her mind off of the tensions of Korvosa.

She still looks at the ghostly figure of Vera's mother with a bit of trepidation. Should she introduce herself? Did ghosts care about people other than their kith and kin? She decides to wave and smile as Vera gets set up. There was no reason to be unfriendly.

Before the younger woman gets fully started, Olenna listens to her explanation. It earns a faint smile from her. "Some of my girlfriends when I was younger--maybe twelve or so--liked playing around with the harrow deck. We usually used it to guess which boys liked us, but...ah, never mind. Please go on." Clearly this was much more serious than what she had done as a girl, more in line with the Varisian tradition that Olenna was significantly less aware of. No need to tarnish that with recollections of youthful ignorance.

As the reading goes on, Olenna looks at her card. A cloaked figure, their face shrouded in the shadows of a red, black, and gold vestment, clutching a folio filled with papers spilling out and betraying the runic symbols etched into the leather of the cover. Chains wrap around the figure as they point a figure out accusingly, past the person holding the card to someone beyond, out of sight. The Inquisitor: the Lawful Neutral card of Tomes. Well, it certainly felt appropriate to her.

Personally ignorant of the history, traditions, and magic behind the Harrow deck, Olenna had always had a theory about folk divination practices to separate them from what she considered "true" magical divination. That was the art of interpretation--a collaboration between the drawer and the reader to ascertain specific meaning. It was sort of like therapy in a way: the drawer could look at the card and ponder it is a cultural symbol, with all of the associated archetypes and stories. The reader helped them understand those pieces of myth and asked them to think through what relevance that symbol had for their past, present, or future. In that way, any card could apply to anyone at anytime. Cultural symbols were like that: people were similar enough in their lives across generations that it was easy to recognize themes and morals by a mere glance at a painting.

That was, in its way, the truth of art. Art wasn't empirical, with a single truth to point to with a binary yes/no. Nor was it merely relevant or irrelevant. You might not be the right audience for it, or not the right audience at that time, but a masterpiece could be so ubiquitous as to be inescapable. It was why Olenna kept coming back to certain novels every few years, even though she had already read them half a dozen times. Each read revealed a different meaning at different points in her life. Characters she had once hated were now sympathetic, and others that she had related to before becoming a parent were now almost alien to her.

Olenna chuckles to herself. Well, that was an Inquisitive way of approaching the whole enterprise of the Harrow.

Vera's interpretation of the past intrigues Olenna, and she sits in rapt attention, thinking through the stories she could summon associated with each. She would certainly like to believe that the cure was working as intended. "Take your time," she says as Vera stumbles and apologizes. "You're doing better than I could dream of."

The perfect alignment of the Inquisitor certainly draws Olenna's attention. A bit of prophecy then? A warning to stay vigilant. That was Olenna's calling card. She'd buy that in a heartbeat. She was still skeptical--as her card would predict she'd be--but stays with the young arcanist as she weaves a story about their current moment. There were ample things with curious resistances, natural and otherwise.

Vera stumbles once more at the end, seeming to be caught up in the cards. Olenna is one of those who strides forward with concern only to be waved off. She looks with concern from Vera to her ghostly mother but accepts the explanation. She certainly didn't understand the magic behind the rituals, but she was quite willing to accept it.

Olenna doesn't even notice Magda slip out. She's already mixing a few chemicals for Vera to drink to settle her mind and help her sleep and have pleasant dreams. It's not quite honeyed tea, but it will probably do the trick of relaxing her nerves.

---

While Zellara lingers around, Olenna decides to formally introduce herself. "I recently joined up with these four--of whom I understand Vera is your daughter? I have a daughter of my own, several years younger. Uh," it still felt odd speaking with a ghost. But new experiences were to be had regularly the longer one persevered in increasingly odd work. "How does all this work? You, I mean. You seem in control. Don't most unrestful spirits have unfinished work that tethers their quintessence between the ethereal and material planes? A series of conditions that can release them to Pharasma's Grace? I don't mean to question you, of course, nor make it seem like I'm only interested from an academic perspective, but..."

She was rambling.

"Sorry, that's likely too much. I'm Olenna. Tucca. It's nice to meet you."

Zellara raises an eyebrow. ”Not all mysteries in this world need to be solved Ms. Tucca. I love my daughter, and that is enough.” She pauses very briefly, and then continues, ” Unfortunately, I must depart. If you wish to speak to me in the future, please ask Vera. Good evening.” She inclines her head and fades away.

Note that prior to fading away, Zellara did not appear particularly ghostly or translucent. She wasn’t identifiable even as a type of undead, at first glance.

Yaziyah greets Zellara with respect. She had long gotten past her misgivings about the possible undead nature of Vera's mother, and was now treating her as any ancestor spirit - except that Zellara was a little more present than most.

The Shoanti watches Vera perform the harrowing, snorting when her card is presented to her. It was against Yaziyah's very nature to play the fool, but she would not make the mistake of discounting this warning from the cards. While she considered most Harrow readers cons and charlatans, Vera and her mother certainly had true power.

As the young arcanist goes over the other cards, Yaziyah's fingers sketch The Idiot on the floor in front of her, seeing the lines and the colours in her mind's eye. It was not a willing role, the figure barefoot, wounded and with hands tied behind its back. What was the lesson there? Don't underestimate weak creatures, that in great numbers may overwhelm you? Accept when you are outmatched, and go with the flow until you can find a way to escape? All of these were thorns in Yaziyah's mind. She briefly pictures herself in a situation such as is depicted on the card - she would not go as meekly as that one!

...And she would likely die for that.

Perhaps there was some wisdom in this card, then. She sees, as if through thick fog, the scene at the execution, when the Gray Maidens and turned their bows towards her and her friends. If she would have let her pride prevail then, all of them would now be dead. Her gaze shifts to Vera, to Magda, to Olenna, to Marcus. They did not deserve to die such pointless deaths. So, for their sake, she would do well to reign in her pride.

As Vera finishes the harrowing and stumbles away, Yaziyah joins Olenna in caring for the young woman, making her as comfortable as possible so she can rest.

Over the next few days, she uses the house drake network to communicate with her people in Old Korvosa, trying to get updates on the situation there.

Every morning, Mags slips back in the barracks, relaying whatever she has heard for that day, as well as delivering a few loaves of bread, a wheel of cheese, and various dried meats.

"The Greys took Longarces(the prison) as their home, no whispers on where the residents went. Queenee is back in the palace, the guard are fleeing, though not many other people are. The Not Homes (orphanages) are doing better than regular, but one of them, Jessame,,, Vera, you remember her, with the eyes and like This... she joined the Greys." this has upset Mags. One of her own, serving in the faceless thoughtless ruthless metals.

Then she drags her hand under her nose, gives Vera and Yazi a hug, waves at the wall and flame hair, then slips back out.

Olenna tries to take Zellara's advice to heart as she waves goodbye.

She knows that not all mysteries needed to be solved. But that didn't stop her curiosity.

In the days of darkest depression to come, especially separated from her family, curiosity might be the only thing driving her to continue.

---

Before too long, Olenna goes up to Marcus. "I appreciate the offer to stay with you in your barracks, but I need to make sure that my family is safe. After I get them out of the city, I'll be back. But even then, I can't sit still. I have some questions that deserve answers. If I find anything, I'll be sure to bring it to you all. Take care."

Stealth Day 1, Inspiration: 1d20 + 14 + 1d6 ⇒ (18) + 14 + (3) = 35

Olenna slips out and creeps about the streets of Korvosa until she returns home. (If she doesn't find Enzo and Cat there, then she will bring flame-haired vengeance on someone.)

The reunion is tearful. Her family had been trying to get through the thick crowd outside of the celebration/execution when the rioting began. Enzo, bless him, had gotten his daughter out of the way and followed the protocol he had set with Olenna long ago for those moments when the s+&* hit the fan. Back streets, alleys, double back, misdirect, use the movement of the crowd to throw anyone off your trail. Catherine was sniffling. A broken bottle had grazed her face. Enzo had already patched her up, but it was closer to the violence than the girl had ever been to that point.
"You'll be safer in Magnimar," Olenna assures her daughter, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. "And I'll come join you as soon as I can. In the meantime, I think you and Brienna will be good friends."

Olenna helps with the final packing--Enzo hadn't planned to leave for a few more days yet. But passage could be booked on a ship, even last minute, if you had the coin. Olenna sees them to a boat on the west side of the city: Conqueror's Bay. She tries to keep a strong face up, but she's crying as she watches her family's faces shrink away to unrecognizable dots in the fading dusk.

---

Stealth Day 2, Inspiration: 1d20 + 14 + 1d6 ⇒ (12) + 14 + (1) = 27

Olenna is an emotional zombie the following day, struggling to find the motivation to move and work. But she surreptitiously makes her way to the Hall of Records to try to find out some more information about Sabina Merrin--one of the people close to the Queen whom she did not know. A birth certificate might not prove especially fruitful, but the patchwork of publicly available documents could sometimes provide a narrative if you were creative.

Knowledge (local), Research, Inspiration: 1d20 + 15 + 1d6 ⇒ (1) + 15 + (3) = 19

---

Stealth Day 3, Inspiration: 1d20 + 14 + 1d6 ⇒ (4) + 14 + (4) = 22

On the third day, Olenna visits the legal library at the University of Korvosa, hoping that her alumni card (and recent public recognition) would enable her to get in without any fuss. In addition to holding the full compendium of the Korvosan City Charter and its 247 amendments, she remembered that the library had copies of plenty of legal scholarship as well. Not all of it was Korvosan-specific either (though much of it was). There were treatises from numerous political philosophers across Golarion, or at least that was what she remembered. Whether Headmistress Leroung had been able to maintain independence and keep her library as she wanted it was another question. Olenna isn't sure whether referencing Hostetter's Imperial Betrayal or Jubannich's On Government would be even slightly useful--Andoran and Galt were very different from Korvosa--but they might at least be enlightening. Ultimately, Olenna wants to look for something--anything--that she could exploit to disempower or delegitimize the Queen. Loopholes. Missteps. Anything.

Knowledge (local), Research, Inspiration: 1d20 + 15 + 1d6 ⇒ (1) + 15 + (4) = 20

Well, a poor showing overall! I think she's distracted.

Marcus has little to say during the harrowing. When a crumbling wall is mentioned he barely contains a snort; bit on the nose that one was.

But when it's mentioned that Yazi should pretend to know less than she does...Marcus's nostrils flare. He stays silent and listens intently for that portion.

At the end he gets up, glowering at nothing in particular, and leaves, barely quieter than what would be considered storming off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At a later time, Marcus addresses Olenna's point, and brings it up to the others as well. "I just wanted us secure for the night following the attempted assassination. Things should be calmer from here on out. You're still welcome to stay whenever you like."

6th of Erastus, 4713 AR

Only one guard stands at the citadel entrance, and none train in the large inner courtyard. The guard looks at the party nervously as they approach. The citadel halls are silent and empty, a stark contrast to a earlier in the week, with refuse and trash scattered here and there, dust slowly gathering in empty barracks, and an overall state of creeping neglect hanging over the place like a pall. Cressida Kroft looks haggard and tired when the party arrive; she ushers them into the central keep quickly, leading them into a smaller meeting room in the depths of the keep to a doorway that, when opened, reveals what appears to be a room filled with fog. Beyond is a plainlooking chamber with a single long table (on which sits a small closed coffer) and enough chairs for the party and herself. This chamber is protected by a permanent mage’s private sanctum. After everyone is seated, she speaks in a low voice.

“Korvosa is dying. No, strike that. Korvosa is being murdered. Killed by our queen. The evidence you’ve uncovered that links her to the plague is damning enough, but now that she’s disbanded the Sable Company and reallocated our own funding to the Gray Maidens, she’s more in control now than ever. I dare not move against her, as my guards would be executed to the last fighter by her Gray Maidens before sundown. But she must be stopped. And I know of no one else but you to do this deed.”

“Whatever foul magic the queen has wrapped herself in is obviously of the highest order. Endrin’s aim was true, and his shot should have dropped her. I had feared he was going to take matters into his own hands like this, but hoped he would find it within himself to find a better route. If only he could have waited…”

“You see, just recently, new information came to me. Vencarlo Orisini’s been one of my most trusted sources of information regarding the public; it’s hard for an officer of the Korvosan Guard to get honest opinions from the citizens, and Vencarlo’s observations on these topics have been a godsend, particularly since the plague started. When the queen quarantined Old Korvosa, I’d feared his messages would end, yet he managed to find ways to smuggle updates to me every day. Recently, he wrote of discovering something of vital importance regarding the queen. He mentions something about dark magic and a pact with a devil, but until the events of this morning, I found his claims difficult to believe. But even more astounding, he hinted he’d found a lead on Seneschal Kalepopolis, and implied the man might still be in hiding in Old Korvosa! Please - hold your questions.” She sees Olenna’s reaction and holds up her hand.

“That was the last I heard from him. It’s been a day since he last wrote, and I’ve started to worry for his safety. There are rumors about riots and gangs seizing control of entire neighborhoods in Old Korvosa. Certainly, the plumes of smoke we all see rising from fires on the island are proof that as bad as things are elsewhere, they’re probably worse in Old Korvosa.” She looks at Yazi, ”and I know you have some interest in getting back there sooner than later.”

The Field Marshall looks almost shattered, but grimly continues, “I…I can see a time in the near future when the Korvosan Guard is disbanded as well. Even now I lack the resources to mount my own investigations. Which is where you come in. Trusting you may have been my best decision, possibly my only good decision over the past year, for your group holds the possibility of Korvosa’s salvation. I ask you to seek out Vencarlo in Old Korvosa, and to learn more of what he’s discovered about the nature of our queen’s increasingly violent and destructive turns of personality. Ironically, you should actually be safer in Old Korvosa, since the queen’s quarantine has cut off the island entirely, and word on the street is that she plans on leaving it to rot. She won’t think to look for you there if you maintain a low profile and avoid confrontations with the Gray Maidens. Once you contact Vencarlo, we can only hope what he’s discovered will suggest a course of action we can take to save the city. Now - ask what questions you have quickly - I am being watched, and this place is safe from prying eyes and ears, but my presence here could set off alarms in the palace at any time.” She’s obviously anxious, but is doing an admirable job controlling herself, ”and just be mindful - I know a great deal more about what you all have been up to than you may think. There is no reason to hold back here.” She leans forward, ”put your cards on the table - here, now, while we have this time. We may not have it again for a while.” Her stern demeanor is broken - the fear melts away. The anxiety is replaced with resolve - the woman looks to be acting and speaking like a revolutionary. It is obvious that Cressida Kroft has been extremely practiced in managing herself for her position, for a long time. This side of her - energetic, helpful, driven - it cuts ten years off of her age. Before you sits a woman who seems ready to take on the villains of the world.

"I bought bees" Mags says, an abrupt start "The kids are doing okay, but there is a pull in them, away from the city and up to her. One joined the Greys, and I'm worried I'm going to have to kill her." there is a dull ache in her voice.

"The city is quieter, not the people, I mean the City. I hear it, I don't know if I ever told you." she looks to flamehair and Kroft. "Ever since my parents died, I've heard it, and now it's getting quiet. For the first time. So I don't know if I'll be as much help anymore" she shurgs "But I bought bees." That statement gives her strength. "For tomorrow or tomorrow's tomorrow, you know."

The half-orc thinks as the bees sink in. "We warmed with the Ratters in the pipes, with the sniffers and the teeth" she pauses and tries again, slowly using normal words "The Were Rats in the Sewers. Are our Allies. If you need anything, they'd help you, cause you are with us."

Cressida Kroft smiles at Magda, and it radiates warmth - like the sun , breaking in the east across the rooftops, ”I know you do, Madga. Keep listening.” She reaches out and puts her calloused, mailed hand on Magda’s, and doesn’t remove it. She looks at everyone else.

Mag's eyes go a little wide as Kroft's hand covered her. Not in a bad way, in a surprised 'that is nice/safe/warm' kind of way. The edges of her tusked mouth twitch then spread in a soft smile.

"So it's all true. You must have known for so long. Why didn't you tell us sooner? I think you suffered a lot, keeping it all in." It was no doubt obvious to all of them.

Vera considers what the right thing to ask was. "So, who are our allies? Who can we trust? I've been working to strengthen my magics, you know. I could try to scry Vencarlo's location, figure out where he's disappeared to."

"It's about f!@&ing time." He grits his teeth. I'm sorry Endrin. We're not built for this kind of work. You saw it before we did. I wish we saw it sooner. We won't let your death be in vain. I won't let your death be in vain.

"To be clear...we're gloves off now? Killing Grey Maidens and pissing in the queens tea, the whole gambit?"

Yaziyah's lips flatten as Cressida talks about riots and gangs. Not from her people, not if she had anything to say about it. but the commander was right, it was the worst sort of torture imagining what must be happening in her home and being unable to go there, to help.

"How has Vencarlo been getting messages to you? If we do find him, should we contact you? Or are we free to act as we see fit?"

The Shoanti nods at the response, thinking for a moment. "We should try to avoid crossing the bridge into Old Korvosa. There are most likely smuggler boats we can take from Trail's End into the Old Dock. Pretend we are leaving the city, like our families and friends, then double back and sneak in. It is better if the queen does not know we are there."

"So it's all true. You must have known for so long. Why didn't you tell us sooner? I think you suffered a lot, keeping it all in." It was no doubt obvious to all of them.

Vera considers what the right thing to ask was. "So, who are our allies? Who can we trust? I've been working to strengthen my magics, you know. I could try to scry Vencarlo's location, figure out where he's disappeared to."

She shakes her head, ”they’ve been watching me and listening to me for months. By the time you had enough experience fighting, Endrin and I were constantly being checked via mundane and magical means.” She takes a beat, ”not that it would have mattered too much but the Queen seems to have actually obtained a majority of whatever power around the time of the King’s death. Even if we knew what was going on, not even Marcus Endrin could have faced her then. She’s very smart - smarter than she was before whatever happened - happened. If I had told you once we knew more, you would have been killed, likely via an unfortunate “accident”. We risk a tremendous amount by having this conversation now - they’ll want to know why they can’t find me - but we are left with no other choice, and I hope you’re strong enough now, to survive.” She says this plainly.

"It's about f@$#ing time." He grits his teeth. I'm sorry Endrin. We're not built for this kind of work. You saw it before we did. I wish we saw it sooner. We won't let your death be in vain. I won't let your death be in vain.

"To be clear...we're gloves off now? Killing Grey Maidens and pissing in the queens tea, the whole gambit?"

Kroft raises an eyebrow, ”if you mean if you should attack Longacre and charge the castle - no. Obviously not. You are a good fighter, Marcus, but they have a tremendous advantage of numbers. And if you did so, it would confirm their suspicions and they would kill all the remaining guards, your mercenaries, and anyone connected to you - and they would have the legal authority to do so.”

She continues, ”but - if you mean, should you take prisoners? No, not unless you have a reason to. Where would we hold them? Sonya would disagree - but there’s a reason she’s not here. As for ‘pissing in the Queen’s tea’, well, we’re going to make her angry, but she shouldn’t be angry at us, for as long a possible - for all the reasons I explained.” She looks at him ”we need to gather allies, resources, and legal authority to stop her. I understand you’re extremely angry about Marcus Endrin. I am too. But I’d rather beat her than commit suicide.”

Yaziyah's lips flatten as Cressida talks about riots and gangs. Not from her people, not if she had anything to say about it. but the commander was right, it was the worst sort of torture imagining what must be happening in her home and being unable to go there, to help.

"How has Vencarlo been getting messages to you? If we do find him, should we contact you? Or are we free to act as we see fit?"

The Shoanti nods at the response, thinking for a moment. "We should try to avoid crossing the bridge into Old Korvosa. There are most likely smuggler boats we can take from Trail's End into the Old Dock. Pretend we are leaving the city, like our families and friends, then double back and sneak in. It is better if the queen does not know we are there."

Kroft nods, ”quite so. And act as you see fit. I trust your judgement - go as far as you need to go to find the seneschal and Orsini. After that, you may not be able to contact me for a while, so if you have a chance to get someone to join our cause - someone useful, do it. He may have some ideas about next steps as well. I have to try to keep the guard together and work against her from the inside as much as possible, without her knowing.”

She sighs, ”or if she knows - without giving her a chance or a legal reason to find me and kill me.”

Citadel Volshyenek had been a second home for Olenna for years: a place that had borne dark circles under her eyes and whose bricks had absorbed as many tears as Enzo's shoulder. To see it in this condition, with her old boss serving as its exhausted avatar, was a taste of agony. Had she been one of the lucky ones, to get out when she did? Or would this building bear witness to the circumstances of her eventual demise?

The fact that Cressida speaks so openly scares Olenna. She hadn't been blowing smoke up Sonya's ass a few days before when she had complimented the paladin on her nascent leadership qualities, but it really was Cressida that had the best fortitude to sit where she was in this position. Olenna didn't envy her. She didn't pity her. Would it not be heretical, she'd almost as much kneel at Cressida's and pledge fealty. This was the woman she had followed for years, trusting her judgments in spite of reservations, being completely transparent with them. It was almost like an older sister or aunt, trusting you with a treasured family heirloom or secret, but much more meaningful than that empty materialism.

She knew Olenna like family, too. The moment that her old boss references Seneschal Kalepopolis, Olenna's eyes widen and her mind begins spinning. Her hunch...!

When Cressida offers to answer questions, Olenna struggles to sift through dozens of questions that start fighting for dominance in her head. Yet she waits her turn and lets the inquiries tumble around with each other until the most important crests to the top.
"Is that why...is he why you didn't exercise your authority before?" Olenna offers tentatively. "A hope, or a belief, that Neolandus yet remained alive?" It was the strongest remaining question that she had. She knew Cressida was no goddess, not perfect, not beyond reproach. But she wanted to trust that the woman had been expertly playing this game and staying alive by staying one step ahead of where she needed to be. Even if Olenna was three steps behind her--or more--,just believing that she was on the right track is enough to bolster that seed of faith.

So it was off to Old Korvosa. Into a corner of the city abandoned to anarchy. To find two men suspected of being dead.

Her brow had furrowed together several minutes ago, but it now relaxes. "Even though I don't take orders from you now anymore, ma'am, I don't think I need to right now. We're on the same page." She nods. "You do your work. We'll do ours."

Kroft nods, ”yes, though it wasn’t a vain hope. I knew he was alive. As long as he lived, we couldn’t replace him.” She leans back, ”the laws in this city - they’re tricky. I don’t want to speculate much, but they may be more binding than just words.” She grimly adds, ”and that foul man she was with, his name is Togomor, I have it on authority she named him seneschal while Neolandus still lives. She may come to rue that decision… but perhaps not before she destroys this city - utterly.”

She sighs, ”and Olenna, I cannot tell you how sorry I am about all of this. I hoped you and your family would have a stable place here - I tried to build the guard up to be, well, something I suppose, but it wasn’t enough. In the end, no matter how much I gave up - I couldn’t save us. My own resources have been stripped, almost to nothing.” She gestures, ”almost everything my family, and Marcus’ as well, has owned for hundreds of years - gone to keep our places running, and it wasn’t enough. It is a bitter pill, though I suppose I would do it all again, even knowing what I know now.”

Alive. And known.

Well that was something indeed. Those complex laws offered a ray of hope, if only they could be acted on swiftly enough.

Olenna shakes her head at Cressida. "Stability is not the job of one person," she assures her. "Our families aren't gone yet. Aren't dead yet. We're still here. I'll fight til my breath gives out."

"What of these assassins? The Red Mantis? Is the Queen behind them, too? I'd very much like to put a stop to them--they were sent to kill the Varisian survivors of those plague-doctor experiments!"

"It's about f@$#ing time." He grits his teeth. I'm sorry Endrin. We're not built for this kind of work. You saw it before we did. I wish we saw it sooner. We won't let your death be in vain. I won't let your death be in vain.

"To be clear...we're gloves off now? Killing Grey Maidens and pissing in the queens tea, the whole gambit?"

Marcus nods. "Wasn't suggestion a siege, just that we weren't stepping on eggshells anymore."

"What of these assassins? The Red Mantis? Is the Queen behind them, too? I'd very much like to put a stop to them--they were sent to kill the Varisian survivors of those plague-doctor experiments!"

Kroft frowns, ”the Red Mantis - yes, I’m sure the queen is involved. I suspect they might be involved in Neolandus’ disappearance, and Orsini’s silence. I’m sure they wanted to kill the Varisians you rescued. No loose ends and all that. But at Yaziyah’s center they should be safe for a while - as long as they stay indoors. There’s probably more than a few red mantis, but at least the Grey Maidens have largely abandoned the place.”

She turns to Marcus, ”I think I explained my reasoning but to reiterate, by necessity, if you get into conflict with them, you won’t won’t be able to just arrest them and let them go like before - but whatever you do, try not to get into conflict with them so this doesn’t escalate. Don’t challenge them unless you have to. Does that make sense? I understand your impulse at the execution, believe me. But they are going to follow the law unless we give them a great reason not to.”

"The less reason we can provide to target us, the better," Olenna reiterates. "So we'll need to choose our actions carefully. The greatest impact and the least blowback." She shrugs. "Knowing the Charter reasonably well should come in handy."

Cressida Kroft waits a few moments for anyone else to ask her any questions, but hearing no more, she says, ”well, you should leave here as soon as possible. Keep your head down, watch for assassins, and try to get the witnesses out of the city - you don’t need to escort them to Harse like with Trinia, but your first order of business should be to get them on a boat out of old Korvosa as soon as you can - at the least so that they aren’t a way for Illeosa to threaten us and make you distracted. Past that - find Orsini and Kaleopoulos. This may be the last time we speak in person for a while, I will continue to have my hands full here.” She pats Magda on the hand, and gestures for everyone to leave the protected room.

Remember that the party didn’t tell her about Trinia, or Harse.

******************

The party moves on, out of the citadel. There’s no sign of Sonya, or many other guards they know, but there are some grey maidens here and there on the streets. Some watch the party, others seem to take no notice, but their patrol patterns don’t appear to change, even though it’s hard to get a read on their faces from behind the masks.

The party, cloaked, waits for evening and, making sure they aren’t followed takes a small fisherman’s skiff across the narrow channel, onto Endrin Isle. Some parts of this oldest part of the city seem to glow red - reminiscent of the time of anarchy when the king died, and there is the lingering smell of smoke. The ‘quarantine’ seems to have brought chaos to the island.

******************

Everyone forgot about it, but at some point Magda retrieved Dafne and brought her back to the sewer.