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A Campaign Fit For a Queen!
The kings and queens of Korvosa have long ruled under the shadow of the Curse of the Crimson Throne—an infamous superstition claiming that no monarch of the city of Korvosa shall ever die of old age or produce an heir. Whether or not there is any truth to the legend of the curse, Korvosa's current king is but the latest victim to succumb to this foul legacy. Now, the metropolis teeters on the edge of anarchy, and it falls to a band of new heroes to save Korvosa from the greatest threat it has ever known! This hardcover compilation updates the fan-favorite campaign for use with the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game, including new and revised content and nearly 500 pages packed with mayhem, excitement, and adventure!
This hardcover edition of Curse of the Crimson Throne contains:
All six chapters of the original Adventure Path, expanded and updated for use with the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game.
An in-depth gazetteer of the city of Korvosa as it exists under the rule of its new queen.
An array of new rules options for characters, ranging from campaign traits to spells to magic items.
An expansive appendix with statistics, descriptions, backgrounds, and rules support for the 12 most important NPCs in the campaign.
A bestiary featuring nine monsters from the original Adventure Path making their debut under the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game rules.
Dozens of new illustrations, never-before-seen characters, location maps, extensive new encounter locations, and more!
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Sing, O Muse, of the courage of seven intrepid heroes, emerging from the mists of obscurity to save the city of Korvosa from impending, certain doom. Behold, a scene plays out all over the Varisian metropolis also known as 'Little Cheliax.'
Kradel Blastforge kneels down to perform his morning prayers before his personal shrine to Torag, and atop the miniature anvil, the dwarf discovers a small card, The Winged Serpent. He flips it over...
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Gerry Thylley meanders through the crowded market, observing a distracted merchant who drop her thin wallet but then disappears into the crowd. Unable to find the woman, he finds a dark, deserted alley, where the halfling duelist opens it. There's nought inside but a card, The Juggler. He flips it over...
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Crosslegged on the floor of a small, nondescript chapel dedicated to the goddess Sarenrae, Korinne Bryden is deep in meditation, when a pigeon lands near her. Her concentration broken, the paladin looks down at the bird, scratching beneath its feet at a small card, The Empty Throne. She flips it over...
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Sora Whitespire sits in the shade of a gnarled crabapple tree, reading the fortune of an emaciated necromancer who wants to know if it's better to find a new wife or just animate his dead one. She draws her cards, and the first is The Joke. She flips it over...
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The dawn's rays piercing the dingy windows and nearly blinding him, an intoxicated Dragas lifts his tankard to drain its last swirling dregs. Through one squinting eye, he sees the coaster the mug was resting on, shaped like a card, The Uprising. He flips it over...
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His time up at the only target practice range he can afford in this part of town, Donkere Vulkaan grabs a seat at a workbench and reaches for his weapons cleaning kit, grasping some swabs and lubricating oil. One hand sweeping clear a space to work, the ifrit spots a card, The Unicorn. He flips it over...
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Walking through the temple district, Viggo's keen archaeologist's eye is drawn to some masonry clearly incongruent with the rest of the building's foundation. Stepping forward for a closer look, he spots, wedged between two granite stones, a card, The Twin. He flips it over...
Each of our heroes turns the harrow card over to find a note written on the other side.
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Gerry reads the contents of the note over again several times, his face a blank mask. Inside however a slow rage builds as the one name he had been trying to forget again burns itself in his mind. Briefly he considers burning the card to ash, yet already he knew it was too late...that name was again burned into his mind, and he knew of only one way to excise it: REVENGE.
Ohhh he would be there...
He had heard of this Zellara before, even tried to meet her for answers before, yet none were forthcoming.
He would be there even if no one else showed, and he would finally find Gaedren...where he would join his beloved in death.
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"My, my," Sora throws her hair back. "The Joke card predicts you may have to go around your deceased wife's parents," she snorts at the necromancer. "... If you do raise her from the dead. But dear, there is fortune in adventuring and rescuing your next wife from the clutches of an evil monster, as well." She winks, leaning in with a breathy whisper. "Believe in the heart of the cards."
Putting all but one of the cards away, Sora's customer drops the fortune teller's fee into her palm, and walks off.
Then she holds the single card up to her face, thinking for a moment. Gaedren? After all these years?
She sighs, leaning against the tree, shuffling her Harrow Deck idly. Brooding. She stops, looking at each card. Looks like it's in the cards, huh. Guess it couldn't hurt to check it out.
She stands, shakes her dress free of grass and dirt, and turns to make her way to Lancet Street.
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What's this... Gaedren? That evil slime bag! Kradel nearly blurts out the curse, but he differs from many of the other Blastforge's. Some refer to him as 'Lady-like', others just ignore him and his softness completely. Its hard to be of such a well respected family but not be one for battle, drunkness, or brawling.
Kradel finishes his morning prayer, rings his small hammer against the anvil in a single, clear note and stands. "Looks like my chance to finally find you Sophie is at hand. The others will have no choice but accept me once I do." He says to no one in particular as he packs his things and heads out into the city.
"Excuse me Ms, could you point me towards Lancet Street? Yes of course I can help you with those bags!" Ooof, what's in these? A stack of lead cats?
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At first, Dragas sees four cards and notes. Trying to ignore the throbbing headache, he squints his eyes, trying to bring the card and the note into singular focus. Four cards and notes stare back. Emitting a painful growl, he closes his eyes.
Ketza. Would you still be here if I'd swallowed my foolish pride? My world is more the darker with you gone from it. I miss you, moy unalli and I'm tired of being alone.
Wanting nothing more than to continue to pine for the loss of beloved, family and identity, the odoriferously smelling man in an isolated corner of the grimy wharfside dive where the half-hearted attempt at nautical decor was only balanced out by the constant stink of dead fix intermingling with the constant presence of salt air in an ungodly potpurri of smell that did wonders for seekers of sobriety. While Dragas wasn't one of those people, he wasn't being given a choice to willingly climb on the figurative wagon. Lack of coin was making the choice for him, whether he liked it or not.
The tall broad-shouldered man opened his eyes and looked down at the card and the note once more. Instead of multiple images, the card and letter seemed to want to blur together. Looking down at both, Dragas has to almost have his nose right on the note before it comes into focus and he can read it.
As Dragas reed the note, another feral growl rolls out his throat as the gorge in his throat and stomach both rise upon reading a single name in the note. His haunted eyes and long face cloud in dark anger. Without thinking, he casts the tankard aside, paying no attention as it bounces off the wall and clatters the floor. Ignoring an angry yell from the indignant barkeep with a noticable paunch in his waistline, Dragas stalked out and begain verbally assailing anyone he could find.
"Lancent Street! Where is it? Where do I find it?"
The passersby whom Desna saw lacking to receive her grace couldn't help but to lean back from Dragas's combination of body odor and alcoholic breath as he harranuged anyone and everyone he could trying to get directions. They included an urchin who kicked the giant smelly man in the leg when he tried to grab his arm, a performing minstrel who made the mistake of cracking a Shoanti joke at the wrong time and rewarded for his wit with a swollen lower lip, and a guard who ordered the tall man to move along, lest he be jailed for vagrancy.
Eventually, someone took pity on the half-deranged Shoanti and gave him directions to the street he sought along with the suggestion that he should bathe at the earliest opportunity. It was advice that fell on deaf and non-present ears.
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Viggo's heart races as he quickly looks around to see if he is being watched... fear and paranoia nearly overwhelm him.
Who could his be?
After searching the crowd for a few minutes, Viggo takes a deep breath and sighs...
"Well... it's about time this was dealt with."
Viggo tucks the card away into his belt pouch and double-checks to make sure it is secure.
The cryptic meeting is in an area of the city that Viggo has spent very little time... he finds a into a few local taverns and inquires as to the meetings location.
Having determined the meetings location, Viggo checks all his gear- paying particularly close attention to his sword- before heading off to the mysterious rendezvous.
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Korinne is the first to arrive at the address mentioned in the note on the harrow card. Gerry arrives on her heels.
When a knock on the door elicits no welcome, the unlikely pair tests the handle, and the door swings open, the tinkling of a merchant's bell the only sound that breaks the silence.
The interior of the small, humble home consists of a single cozy chamber filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice. The aroma comes from several sticks of incense smoldering in wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly-winged elves. The smoke gives the room a dreamy feel. The walls are draped with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black-skulled beast juggling human hearts, and another showing a pair of angels dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on the far wall depicts a tall, hooded figure shrouded in mist, holding a flaming sword 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 throw cloth and several elegant, tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue cloth sits under the table.
Korinne finds a simple note on the table, weighed down with a stone paperweight.
Eventually, five other people appear at the door, a dwarf, three humans, and finally even an ifrit.
Our seven heroes regard one another with some surprise and suspicion, introduce themselves to each other, and perhaps compare their identical messages on very different harrow cards.
It had been many years since Sora had escaped the grasp of one Gaedren Lamm. While her childhood was no mystery to her, the soothsayer had learned to not worry about her tragic past. No way to go but forward, she'd tell herself. Most of all, she wanted see the grand success of her own business, and that meant leaving the past behind.
It was for that reason that she went to the home with reluctance. Yet she showed up all the same, and into a room with six strangers she found herself.
"Hello? Is this the right place?" A Varisian woman steps into the cozy home, the smell of incense tickling her nose. She wears a garish scarlet dress muted by a dull grey and black floral pattern sewn along the sides. Her dark hair hangs at shoulder length and has recently been speckled with strands of grey.
"I'm Sora, and I run a business here in town. Normally, I use my own harrow deck for fortune telling, but I found this harrow card," she holds up the note, "With instructions to come to this address. Pretty unusual that we'd all get the same one, huh?" She looks around, sizing up the others, one at a time.
Dragas arrives post-haste and doesn't even bother to knock. The door bell jingles a little bit louder than usual as the door opens with a strong flourish. The barbarian bursts into the room, looking around as if he is searching for someone.
His eyes fall on two female humans and a halfling who are present within the room. The one thing that doesn't escape him is that one of the females and the halfling look to be well armored and carry weapons. The other female doesn't appear to be as militant, but seeing all of them causes him to be alert and on his guard. One hand goes to the hilt of the greatsword strapped to his side, but he doesn't draw his trusty blade of steel.
Could this be a trap that Gadrean has set for me? I've not been exactly subtle in asking around Korvosa to try and find him.
"Who are you?" he asks tersely. "Were you the one who sent me this?" he says, as he fishes with his other hand into an empty belt pouch save for The Uprising card he found under his tankard. He holds it up for the trio to see.
Gery does a double take when he sees the young human female arrive before him at the residence. Giving her a guarded look he nods shortly in greeting. "My name is Gerry. You also have an appointment with Zellara?"
Seeing the arrival of the Varisian fortuneteller along with the others here raises the hackles on his spine, as trust is a difficult commodity to find for him. Still he nods in greeting to Sora. "Yes, unusual is a good term. You also bear the same card...what game is this, that is being played?"
Despite his hunger he is too nervous to eat of the proffered food for now, yet he does pack away some of it for later.
The appearance of the Shoanti warrior immediately causes his guard to be raised, but he decides to be disarming here. "Take it easy my friend. There is no need for bloodshed...the night is still young after all!"
Kradel makes his way to the address after finally loading the remainder of the woman's bags on her kitchen table. It only took 4 trips of three blocks each one way. He pants with exertion as the good deed is finally repaid with some scratch directions on a napkin "You have yourself a fine day. Stay safe Gretchen."
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After a quick stop for a drink on the way Kradel's nerves calm and his breathing has returned to normal. He looks down at the napkin then up at the address and steps through the door, bell tingling overhead. "Umm hello, am I interrupting a meeting?" He greets the others politely before quickly finding out they've all arrived in similar fashion for similar reasons.
"I've got the same message, but on the twin serpents.. any idea of the significance of that? Has anyone seen the shop owner?" He cocks his head to scan the room for doors and side rooms.
"I'm Kradel, of clan Blastforge." He offers a nod to each, but giving Dragas an extra pause, remembering some of his run ins with brutish Shoanti in the past. He's lightly armored in a chain shirt with all the other trappings of a Dwarf. A small birthmark in the shape of a warhammer is present on his right cheek: a chosen of Torag.
"Good to meet you, Kradel of Clan Blastforge," Sora jokes with a wink and a smile. "Twin serpents, huh? You must mean the Winged Serpent card, representing the couatl, the bridge of understanding between the towers of knowledge and judgement." She taps her forehead, a natural font of Harrow knowledge. How fortunate that all of these people had gathered together with seemingly random harrow cards in their possession.
"What about you," she turns to Gerry. "What card did you get? My dear, harrow cards are far from a game. In my line of business, these cards are my source of truth."
"This?" Gerry hold up the Juggler card for Sora to look at, "Sorry, I don't believe cards control your luck, YOU have to make your own luck. Relying on anything else is a fool's dream!" He adds a little vehemently.
She reminds me of Melly, and how she used to enjoy her own readings...
Kradel flips his own card around and double checks Whoops! "Um yes, winged they are.. but they are TWINNED looking" He adds a bit sheepishly to try to save some face.
"I'm not very familiar with harrow decks. I tend to get my inspiration and wisdom from Torag and the earth all around us." He closes his eyes and raises his arms, taking a deep breath as he does so. "You can feel its power and if you listen hard enough you can you understand its message: Stand strong against the enemies of you kin, both feet firmly planted on the ground, and you will survive."
After an overly long and awkward pause he opens his eyes and smiles "I've been listening a long time, don't fret if you don't hear it on your first try."
After some rummaging around Kradel pulls up one of the tall backed chairs and takes a load off.
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The tinkling of the bell announce another arrival. It's an attractive middle-aged Varisian woman with long, dark hair tucked beneath a colorful scarf on her head.
"Welcome to my home and thank you for responding to my invitation," the woman says as she enters her home with a smile, "I'm Zellara Esmeranda."
She sits down at the table. "Please, have a seat."
She produces a harrow deck from a pocket, idly shuffling the cards. Her skill with the deck is obvious to anyone who watches how the cards seem to float and dance through her fingers.
"Seems someone's not yet here." With a nod of her head, she indicates the only remaining empty chair. "Let's give him time to get here. I wouldn't want to start without him."
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Upon meeting the rest of the group, Viggo will introduce himself in a rather short and curt manner, "I'm Viggo." Taking the harrow card out of his pouch his holds it up for all to see. "It looks like several of us received the same token." Keeping his hand on the hilt of sword, Viggo remains noticeably tense, "It appears that someone wanted to get us all in one place... excuse me if I wait until I have some answers before we start hugging each other."
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Upon the arrival of Zellara- Viggo nods to her. (In Varisian) Viggo says, "Good to meet you." Viggo will remain standing until the rest of the group sits down.
After sitting down, Viggo asks (in common), "Who else should we be expecting?"
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Had just finished his time... The loss of his loved ones... All because of that man... Gaedren. The more he thinks about him, the more he cries tears of frustration. Homeless, without a family to fall back on, all but vengeance deep in his heart. But he looked down at the Unicorn, and resolved himself to find these other people.
He was quick to find the place, keeping his family's gun tucked behind a large coat as he quickly moved towards the house. As he reached the house he quickly entered and shut the door, looking at... Well a large crowd.
"Sorry for the lateness, got a little carried away at target practice this morning. Name is Donkere Vulkaan, or Don for short."
Sora looks at Korinne's card. "Please, just Sora is fine, Korinne of the Healing Flame," she giggles, making the same joke she'd used on Kradel. "Your card represents those who are gone, or a ghost of the past that has taught important lessons."
With the mention of Gaedren Lamm, Sora's face folds in all the wrong places. What are the chances we were all summoned here for the same reason? And why now?
Sora takes a seat at the table, shuffling her own deck of Harrow cards. "You've got a pretty good handle on those cards, .. Zellara?"
It was odd to the fortune teller, who lived with a determined focus on the future alone. Not only was it her job, it was all she could do to live happily. Yet, confronting her past head on could only be avoided for so long.
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"Thank you for coming, my friends, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you," Zellara Esmeranda, once everyone sits down.
"I have reason to remain hidden, you see—a vicious man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This man has done something terrible to each of you as well."
"I speak, of course, of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched only by his gift for avoiding reprisal." She sets the cards down on the table. "You see, a year ago, his thieves stole this, my harrow deck, from me. It is important to me, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, and also my sole means of support. When Lamm’s pickpockets stole it, my son Eran tracked them down and returned my deck to me. But Gaedren had him followed, and soon after he left my home, Gaedren’s thugs murdered him."
Tears of sorrow and rage well in her eyes.
"I sought help from the Korvosan Guard, but they turned me away. And so I asked around. I paid bribes. I consulted my harrow deck for advice. And recently, I was rewarded—I found out where Gaedren dwells. He can be found in an old fishery north of here, at Westpier 17, where he trains abducted children to be pickpockets and counts his stolen treasures."
"But I need your help." Her dark eyes plead with you. "I cannot hope to face this man on my own, and the Guard moves so slowly that if they were willing to help, Gaedren would certainly know of their coming well in advance. And even if they arrested him, what guarantee would I have he would be punished? This criminal has evaded the law for decades. But you know of these frustrations as well, for word on the street has it that Gaedren has wronged each of you, too. So there we are."
"It is time for him to pay. Will you help?"
Gaedren Lemm... The name echoes in Gerry's mind...pulsing in time to the beating of his heart, the pounding of his blood.
All he could think of was his beloved's lifeless body, him cradling her in their last embrace. Never to hear her voice, or see her smile...again.
He turns away from Zellara's view, his hands clenching visibly as he tries to keep control here.
His voice cracks here, barely above a whisper. "Yes...Zellara I will help find him, and face him."
It doesn't take more than a moment for Kradel to accept the offer "Yes, of course yes! The man stole away my niece Sophie not long ago and I can't bear to think of what devilish things he's corrupted her with!" He raises his own iron holy symbol in the shape of a small hammer and recites his pledge "You'll have the blessings of Torag at your side, his servants will rise from the stone to assist in this quest, you have my word."
And with that Kradel goes silent, lost in his own thoughts. Please be alright little one, and all those little ones he's taken throughout the years. You're suffering shall be paid in full with justice!
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Viggo scowls but slightly nods his head in affirmation.
"I will help you even the score with Gaedren Lemm. As long as we all understand that he dies... no TRIAL that he can bribe his way out of. No PLEAS of his repentance. No PROMISES of wealth or fame can dissuade us from putting him down like the rabid dog that he is."
Viggo takes a moment to meet the gaze of the Dawnflower's servant, "Is that acceptable to each and all of you? Gaedren dies. I have witnessed far too many horrible acts committed by him to agree to anything else."
Sora is startled by Viggo's outburst. "My, my, are you always so dour and severe?" She laughs.
She turns to Zellara, placing her hand on her arm delicately. "Miss, I know exactly how it feels to be apart from your harrow. My own deck was passed down to me by my father himself," she breathes deeply. ".. May he rest in peace. If I were to lose it, I would stop at nothing to get it back. And more than that, you lost your son."
Pulling her dress down to cover her ankles better, Sora stands up, her deck in her hand. "Gaedren.. He would have left me for dead had I not escaped his grasp. I.. I don't want to talk about it. But I don't care if he rots in prison for years or if he ends up dead, we need to make him pay." She slams her deck on the table, a card depicting a man being taken by many hands landing face up.
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"You may wonder how I knew about you and your connection to Gaedren Lamm," she says. "I listen to the music of the city, and my harrow cards tell me more than they tell most."
"They warn of a coming time of unrest and violence in the streets, and all of you are in some way fated to become heroes of Korvosa."
Once her tale is done, Zellara nods, satisfied. "I can perform a harrowing for you to help prepare you for the task of seeking out Gaedren in the Old Fishery."
The Varisian woman doesn’t wait for agreement, but immediately proceeds to deal the cards.
As others file in behind him, Dragas is taken aback though he tries not to show it. In a place like Korvosa with lots of people packed in together, to adjust from a limited number of people in his tribe in the wilderness to civilization and its mass of humanity has been nothing short of a culture shock.
And said adjustment hasn't been without the help of stout drink and getting hammered.
At first, this many people in a single room has the Shoanti's tension running high. But as the others tell their stories of their experiences with Gaedren Lamm, he begins to relax but their tales only serve to fan his hatred of the man all the more.
"You seem to know a lot about cards," he says to the woman who introduced herself as Sora. "Can you tell me what mine means?" he says. The card depicts a background of flames and a group of men in the foreground who appear to be angry, one of them carrying a pitchfork and another carrying a flaming torch.
When Zellina appears and introduces herself, the only indication of emotion is a pair of raised eyebrows as the woman tells the tale of Gaedran and her son's murder. She sent the message? Could have heard about me asking around, but the fact that she's been watching me? Not sure if I like that.
When she makes her request, Dragas nods emphatically. For the first time since losing Ketza and being cast out from his tribe, he felt like he had a purpose. "If by 'pay up', you mean kill him? Yes! I'll help you!" he exclaims as fire dances in his pale blue eyes.
As she talks further, he frowns at her words, brow furrowed. Hero? Not hardly. The sooner Gaedran pays for murdering Ketza, the sooner I get the ring back that I gave her. The sooner I get the ring back for my family, the sooner I can leave this city and return to them.
Kradel fidgets a bit nervously at the bloodthirsty individuals in the room. He's never been that way, nor has he needed to be growing up relatively sheltered and safe. Let's hope the man dies in battle so we don't have a murder on our hands.
"Sounds like we've all got a good reason to find this man. Let's hear your harrowing so we can start tracking him down." He pulls out a bit of paper and an ink pen, ready to make any important notes about the proceedings. Afterwards, Kradel crosses a short leg over his knee and folds his hands quietly in his lap, waiting.
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Viggo meets Korinne's gave with a continued stony expression.
"Redeeming the nonredeemable... Moving the unmovable stone. The Axebeak attempting to soar as an eagle."
Viggo laughs, "When the time comes we will see if your convictions hold true. It is endearing to see those who dedicate their lives to the righteousness of celestials would allow evil to fester and grow rather than nipping it in the bud when they can."
Looking at Zella, "Rest assured. I will do what needs to be done. A cheetah could more easily shed his spots than it would be Gaedren to turn for his evil ways."
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"On the Edge of Anarchy, where and when we now find ourselves, the Keys are the most appropriate suit for our needs." She draws nine cards from the deck turns them over on the table and points the cards spread out in an arc before you. "These nine cards represent the harrowing’s Choosing. Please, one at a time, draw a random card and turn it over."
Each of our heroes draws a card and flips it over. Donkere, the Juggler; Dragas, the Demon's Lantern; Gerry, the Rabbit Prince; Korinne, the Avalanche; Kradel, the Locksmith; Sora, the Dance; and Viggo, the Crows.
When Donkere turns over the Juggler, Zellara exclaims, "Oh, the Juggler is quite auspicious for you."
She looks at Dragas and his card, the Demon's Lantern. "Hmm... "
When Gerry turns over his card, the Rabbit Prince, Zellara says, "The Keys suit you, Gerry."
"Let me tell you all the story of the Rabbit Prince... "
Story of the Rabbit Prince
In the wake of the world’s forging, many terrible things still lurked in the dark ashes at the corners of the multiverse. To fight against these cinders of wrathful, dark energy, the gods created rabbits to serve as their vigilant soldiers. Graced with speed, keen senses, and valor beyond measure, the rabbits stood firm against the evil remnants of what came before—all but one rabbit, that is, for Brambleson, the Prince of All Rabbits, was born without courage. As his subjects threw themselves into glorious battle, Brambleson could only cower and covet their heroism.
That is, until the Endless Darkness came. The greatest of the gods’ wrathful children, the Darkness was so strong that it turned away blades like stone, and so terrible that none could stand strong before it or dared confront it a second time. Legions of rabbits tried to fight the Darkness, only to turn and flee just as those before. “What shall we do?” cried the rabbits once the last of their numbers were swallowed or cowed by the Endless Darkness. “Who shall defeat this monster if not us?”
To this, Brambleson proposed a plan. “I have not faced the Endless Darkness,” he announced. “Lend me your courage, for the courage of a hundred soldiers will stand strong where one might falter. Lend me your courage and I shall slay the Darkness!”
“No,” cried the rabbits. “For you are a trickster and a coward, Brambleson. You would break your word and keep our courage for yourself!”
“Never, my subjects! I shall forge my promises to each of you into a sturdy sword, for no soldier would break his own sword. And once the Darkness is slain, I shall return your courage to you.” And so the rabbits nodded in agreement, and the rabbit smiths forged Brambleson’s thousand promises into a sword as the rabbits all gave him their valor.
Brambleson stood alone before the Endless Darkness, and as it bellowed and loomed, he stood without fear and raised his sword of promises. And as ever, the Darkness’s hide turned aside his blade, shattering it and the promises it held. Robbed of his weapon and his courage, Brambleson fled into the night, leaving the Darkness to lurk in the darkest corners of Golarion. And so rabbits remain vigilant, but forever without courage until the Darkness is slain or their wayward prince returns.
Hesitating a few moments, Korinne, Kradel, Sora, and Viggo finally show her their cards. "Hmm... "
"We will note the harrowing's Choosing," Zellara says, as she collects your cards, puts them back in the deck, and shuffles again.
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Zellara draws nine cards and places them facedown in a three-by-three square. "This is the Spread. It implies an aspect of the past, present, or future of the reading."
"The left column of three cards represents the secrets of the past. This column also represents law, for the past is unchangeable and set in stone." She reveals the three cards in this column starting from the top and interprets their meanings.
"The Publican reveals a past of fellowship and camaraderie; it's placement has increased importance. The Beating reveals attack from all sides." Zellara pauses after she flips over the bottom card. "Tsk. This card is misaligned, revealing the journey went poorly; it's placement has increased importance, too."
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"The central column of three cards represents the events of the present. This column also represents neutrality," Zellara informs you. "The present is the sum total of the events of the past yet opens up to the infinite possibilities of the future, and as such is a crossroads between order and entropy."
Now, the Varisian woman reveals these three cards from top to bottom and interprets their meanings.
The Winged Serpent
The Inquisitor
The Hidden Truth
"The Winged Serpent indicates now is the time to strike; its placement has increased importance for you. The Inquisitor represents immutable reality, and its placement has increased importance even now." Zellara pauses after she flips over the bottom card. "Tsk. This card, the Hidden Truth indicates a dangerous secret. It is also misaligned; however, its placement conveys no additional importance to that revelation."
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"The right column of three cards represents the future, events that might, or might not, come to pass," Zellara continues. "This column also represents chaos, for the future is not set, and anything is possible."
She reveal the three cards in this column starting from the top and interprets their meanings.
Now, the Varisian woman reveals these three cards from top to bottom and interprets their meanings.
The Idiot
The Courtesan
The Twin
"The Idiot is misaligned in this position, and so, he portends a clever feigning of idiocy."
When she flips the middle card, she gasps, bringing her hand to her face. "The Courtesan foretells us of political intrigue, and by revealing herself in this place, it is a true match. As such, it will be of extreme importance!"
She ponders this for a few heartbeats, then she turns over the last card. "The Twin implies duality of purpose."
With a deep exhalation of breath, Zellara closes her eyes and shakes out her hands, finally relaxing her concentration.
"This completes the harrowing," she pronounces, but she leaves all nine revealed cards on the table, so you can consider and discuss their possible meaning.
Herose of Korvosa...The Keys suit you, Gerry... Gerry stares up at Zellara with a nonplussed look on his face.
That makes little sense...how can these cards know me?
After she recounts the story of the Rabbit Prince, he lapses into a pensive silence.
What does that tale mean? It is a metaphor of the halfling race...or is there some deeper meaning?
The rest of the reading seem to pass in a blur as the words from Zellara seem to have a hypnotic effect. Once she has finished he glances to his newfound companions wondering what answers they seek now. "So how does this relate to Gaedren Lamm? What insights do these cards offer?"
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Sora looked distracted as Zellara performed a Harrowing; it was something she was entirely too familiar with, having done it for years. She nodded along as Zellara explained each card, stopping herself from interrupting with her own mental library of Harrow knowledge. She felt right in her element.
After Zellara relaxes, completing her Harrowing, Sora clears her throat. "It's like this,"
Her chair creaks back as she stands up. "Think upon your past, and yours," she looks excitedly at Gerry, then Korinne. "The Publican and its theme of fellowship? We were connected before we even knew it! The Beating? All of us have endured tragedy at the hands of Gaedren, or at least, it certainly seems like it, based on the depth of pain I felt in your earlier words," she nods slowly at Viggo. "Haven't we all lost something to Gaedren?"
"And now, the present? The Winged Serpent. The same card you got," she turns to Kradel. "The time to strike is right now, there's no denying it." She emphasizes. "The Inquisitor tells us we are destined to face our reality, and seek out Gaedren Lamm, and that despite wanting to.. put it behind us.." She looks at the floor sorrowfully. "We simply cannot. The Hidden Truth means that we will soon unearth a secret, perhaps a place, or an object, or a person, related to Lamm."
Sora then looks at the final three cards. "As for the future, often the spread my customers are most interested in, and also the trickiest, we must all carefully consider it. What is the political situation in Korvosa? No matter what it is, we will come to be involved in it, and we will need to be perceptive to underhanded figures who, well, play dumb, but actually have intelligent, nefarious schemes."
The fortune teller sits back down, a glow in her eyes. "As I always tell my customers, believe in the heart of the cards."
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Zellara nods, as Sora demonstrates her own adeptness and training with the harrow cards. "You've the gift, Sora, it's true."
Pouring everyone a cup of saffron tea, Zellara seems lost in her own thoughts for a while.
"The harrowing has shown us something important about your pasts. The Publican told us you once enjoyed fellowship or camaraderie with someone significant to you. The Cricket revealed that a past journey went poorly—no surprise, I wager." She shrugs. "But the cards tell us it was important, nevertheless."
"I confess, I’m pleased to see the Winged Serpent confirmed that now is the time to strike." Her dark eyes flash. "And there’s no more deserving target than Gaedren Lamm. I sense that The Inquisitor no doubt meant to underscore that Gaedren’s evil remains an immutable reality--unless you act now."
"The Courtesan, though… " Her voice trails off, and the pretty Varisian woman runs one hand under her headscarf and through her hair. "As I read the card, I was filled with a deep foreboding of the future. Faces and figures flashed in my mind’s eye, powerful faces. The Korvosan Guard, Grey Maidens, Red Mantis assassins, even King Eodred and Queen Ileosa. And places, too. The Cinderlands, the mysterious Star Tower of Castle Scarwall, the haunting expanse of the Mushfens’ Sunken Queen. Some I couldn’t recognize, nor did their names come to me, so brief did they appear, flickering only for a moment in the dark like a firefly."
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Viggo is impressed with the powerful divination magics displayed by both of the Varisian women.
Acknowledging Sora's comment, Viggo nods in affirmation.
"It will be good to have you along Sora. The magic of the Harrow has united and guided the people of the open road."
Speaking in Varisian, Viggo whispers the following to Sora, "May Desna bless you and your talents. May SHE bless the heart and hands of those reading the Harrow."
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OLD FISHERY
As with all of Gaedren Lamm’s hideouts through the decades, the old fishery he now dwells in is a forgotten echo of someone else’s dreams. Gaedren chooses these lairs not only to give him and his gang a place to hide, but also for their current ownership (or lack thereof ), preferring buildings whose owners have died and left behind no heirs. Under Korvosan law, a building abandoned in this manner immediately reverts to the city and is held in escrow for 2 years, during which time any rightful owner who can prove a claim can regain control of the building. After the 2 years, the city claims the building, yet even then, the government is slow to handle the structure’s eventual fate. Gaedren has found that by choosing the right building in the right location, one can effectively live for free for years at a time.
The old fishery is no exception. Its previous owner died when a devilfish attacked his boat, and now Gaedren uses it as a hideout and a base for a moneymaking scheme to augment what his gang of children pickpocket. The fishery is a place where desperate anglers can sell off their less fetching catches (fish caught 3 days dead in the nets, or freakish specimens unfit for sale, for example) and where fishmongers dump their old sun-tainted wares that reek with the first hints of decay. Gaedren’s little workforce of enslaved orphans toil among the guts and slime, creating a foul-smelling slurry that can then be resold as bait, fertilizer, or the main ingredient for what are known as “dock-dumplings,” a local favorite among poorer dock workers who can’t afford fresh fish.
The old fishery is a creaking, decrepit building, yet it remains solid—it will be a few years yet before its floors start to give way and its roof begins to crumble. Gaedren fully intends to have moved on well before then, and in the meantime, the building serves him and his thugs well as a base of operations. All external windows are boarded shut but have ample slits between the planks to allow those within to peer out. The wooden doors are mottled with mold and grit, but still appear solid.
The fishery is perched atop a steep embankment, with most of the structure extending out over the Jeggare River on wooden pilings. The embankment drops 13 feet into the river below; the sides are slippery but look like they can be scaled. The fishery’s external walls extend almost all the way down to the river, leaving only a few feet of space between the floor and the water. The floor of the lower level is a little higher, but the pilings supporting this portion of the structure are closely packed, leaving only a few inches of room between them. A Small creature could conceivably squeeze between these gaps from the river, but doing so would require extraordinary skill to maneuver within the tight space.
This is all so new to Kradel. He grew up in the church, at least what Dwarves consider a church to Torag: underground around family, friends, and of course the smithy. He spent many years of his life in quiet contemplation alone in the dark underground, feeling the cool stone on his hands and feeling the rhythmic hammering on an anvil in the distance. He tries to take some notes but quickly becomes lost and abandons it all together, just doing his best to listen. I'm glad Sora is among us, she can translate what all this means when the time comes.. I hope.
Kradel bows graciously as the woman ushers the group out of her shop, thanking her at the very least for bringing them all together to find his beloved Sophie. "Please keep in touch, we'll need all the help you can give us." Is all he can think to say as she shoos them towards the docks.
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As the group heads towards the docks it quickly becomes apparent that hunting down thieves, murderers, and people like Lamm are not one of Kradel's specialties. He walks with a unconcerned step and proudly displays the trappings of a priest of Torag: A common, but clean gray vestiment covering a chain shirt that's never seen a fight. A deep golden sash holds the grey cloth tightly under his rounded belly.
"This place smells like spoiled fish. Far more than most places around the docks I've been. I expect the better fish markets to be upwind." He looks around, hoping to see the sight of a more secure and safe place but his face droops at the realization of no such luck.
"I'm not a grand chef or anything, but I do enjoy dabbling in the kitchen... maybe when this is all over you can visit me in Janderhoff for a celebratory feast?" His mind drifts off to his home, and the finer points of life there. "I'll make my most famous vegetable soup with homemade biscuits..." He says, trying to distract himself from the moment.
"May Desna bless you and your talents. May SHE bless the heart and hands of those reading the Harrow."
Sora folds her hands together, whispering back to Viggo in the language familiar to her.
"Într-adevăr, Mama Lună să strălucească binecuvântări asupra noastră, pentru a ne ghida spre noroc."
May Mother Moon shine blessings upon us as we seek out this crime lord. May she guide us to good fortune, and lay luck upon our way.
"You like to cook, huh?" Sora stands beside Kradel, staring up at the fishery. "Not crazy about the smell, but there are many streets in Korvosa with their fair share of interesting smells," she jokes.
She turns to the others. "What's our plan here, guys? A knock on the door may be a little too direct, don't you think?" She taps her forehead sarcastically, but she's actually attempting to sense magical auras in the area.
Gerry is glad to be out of Zellara's abode where he found himself dwelling more than he should upon her words.
Crazy talk...that's all it is!
Now that the group has arrived at the old fishery building he carefully scans the surrounding area.
"I see some gaps that I may be able to squeeze through...Not sure about the rest of you though." He squints as he tries to peer closer, shielding his eyes from the light here, "I may be able to climb inside and open the door, but I'll bet he has guards about."
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He followed them from the back towards the Old Fishery, trying to strike up a nice hum to go along with the tale of the Rabbit, taking his time while looking at his team members. He first moved up closer to Korinne as she had reached out to him, but before his eyes were glazed in VENGEANCE!!!!!… now they were clear with a sort of unnerving charm.
”Why hello, it I so good to actually talk to you… Out on the road… yes, nothing is pleasant about him, but we are going out for the good right? New members, new family!” He does take note of the rest of the party, wondering just what they had against that man.
But no matter! He would go back to his position in the back, his billowing cloak coving most of his body, which was covered in red lines of almost liquid fire, pulsing under his skin.
But as they moved closer to the Old Fishery, he tried to become more aware of what was around him.
He was never the best at looking around, but he would keep his head on a swivel, never trusting weird magics, though he doesn’t mind them when they are good in his favor.
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Arriving outside the old fishery mid-afternoon, the team halts, and Korinne and Donkere observe the building. Though the area around the docks is not deserted, at present, there's no sign of anyone going in or out of the fishery.
The reek of brine and the stink of week-dead fish hang thickly in the air here. The old double doors in the west side of this weathered building are tightly closed, with a drooping signpost hanging above. The sign it once displayed is long gone, leaving behind only a single short length of rusted chain.
A fifteen-foot-wide loading dock abuts the side of the building here. A few carts sit nearby, partially loaded with large, tar- caked barrels marked with a fish-shaped splotch of red paint on the side. Double doors to the immediate south of the loading dock’s ramp provide access to the building’s interior, while a rickety flight of stairs descends ten feet to a point just three feet over the river’s surface, where a simple door provides a secondary entrance. The exterior double doors in the northwest corner of the fishery are ajar.
A slippery boardwalk clings to the south side of the fishery, held together by barnacle-encrusted pilings that have had half of their thickness worn away below the waterline twelve feet below.
Moored at east side of the fishery, the rotten deck of this ancient sailing ship seems to be barely intact; its hull is worn and thick with seaweed and barnacles. The ship is held together primarily by the layers of old rope that lash it securely to the pilings that support the fishery and the nearby boardwalk. The rickety walkway leads along the ship’s starboard, a foot below its railing. A single wooden door leading into the aft cabin bears a crude painting of a red fish on its surface.