GM_DBH's Curse Of The Crimson Throne

Game Master DBH

Awakening early as usual to study her spellbook and combat forms, Ariadne is delighted by the aromas of breakfast being prepared. "That all smells wonderful!"

Working through a few stretches to limber up her muscles, she considers the tales of the previous night's events and what they should do about it. "Given how wild some of the rumors are, unless we talks to someone who was actually on the docks when it happened, or manning the catapults, I think Marshal Kroft would probably have the most reliable information we can find on what exactly happened." she agrees.

After handing Vedika all the spare eggs, Kayleigh tries to stay focused on her own cooking task--not burning the flapjacks. She can't help but occasionally spy on Vedika's cooking methods, but the young cleric immediately notices that one of the things her new friend doesn't do is chat idly while cooking or allow her focus to drift away from her culinary creation. As a result, Kayleigh reluctantly quits her spying to concentrate fully on her flapjacks. The result is a pretty decent (for her, at least) batch of blueberry flapjacks for her friends to consume. Though originally pretty proud of her own effort, when she tastes Vedika's eggs her hazel eyes widen in amazement and she savors each and every mouthful. While clearing the table after the meal, she whispers to the vishkanya, "Next time you make scrambled eggs...could you show me your secrets? Those were delicious!"

The Milanite finds herself agreeing with Ariadne, both about seeing Field Marshal Kroft to learn the (likely) truth about the sunk ship tales and about selling off treasure no one wants. (Kayleigh has no deep interest on any items on the Loot List.)

I agree with Ariadne: Field Marshal Kroft should be our next stop.

Kayleigh Fairwind Wisdom Check (to not burn the flapjacks): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Brig's morning routine is predictable as always. She cleans herself since any foreign substance could alter her potions. She studies her formulas, even though she has done so hundreds of times, every detail needs to stay sharp. Then she gets to work brewing, every drip and drop precisely measured.

Only then does she start interacting. She has been told before that she is rigid and unfriendly, but her mind works how her mind works. It gets into a singular focus and cannot do anything else until that focus is seen to.

"Morning" the blacksmith says, even though they are already at the breakfast table, and she's been up for an hour and twenty-three minutes already. Breakfast is something she is getting used to. With everything else, it had been just an efficient anything she could eat, usually while heading to the forge.

But here Zellara House, it was an event. Mainly thanks to the two people responsible for the cooking "Thank you" she tells them, feeling the need to do so every morning, completely unused to people putting effort into others like her.

A low rumble of pleasure comes out of her chest at the bite of eggs (which are probably the best eggs she's ever eaten). A sound that makes her cheeks ruddy from embarrassment. And another from the pancakes "Are these... blueberries? In the pancakes?"

There is an air of tension over the Korvosian Guard as you arrive. Cressida Croft receives you in her office and looks tired.

She has some disturbing news. She’s received advance word that Queen Ileosa intends to restructure several elements of the city’s military organizations.

Rumors of disbanding some or even all of the groups in favor of new organizations are on many lips, and with events running the way they have of late, Kroft is increasingly afraid that Queen Ileosa’s inexperience as a ruler is going to result in some poor or even disastrous decisions.

The Field Marshal doesn’t go as far as to suggest malice or evil fuels Ileosa’s plans, but to her mind ignorance and naivete can be almost as dangerous. In particular, the way Ileosa handled Trinia has left Kroft
disturbed and worried for the city’s future.

she warns you that events are moving swiftly in Korvosa, and in a
direction that makes her nervous. More importantly, she reveals to you that her ability to finance their missions will almost certainly be diminished as the new leadership realigns and restructures elements of the Korvosan Guard.

Kroft even worries that her position as Field Marshal may be in jeopardy. Her goal at this point is to not make waves and to cling to her post as tenaciously as possible so she’ll remain in a position to
protect and represent the men and women of the Guard she’s grown to trust and feel responsible for.

All of this is Kroft’s way of informing you that, for all of your best interests, you should no longer consider yourselves official agents of the Korvosan Guard.

She hopes you will continue to fight for Korvosa and her citizens, and promises to aid you as she can, but she can foresee a time in the near future when the power of the Korvosan Guard may not be enough to protect those who serve the city.

She doesn’t yet use words like “revolution,” but the implication should be clear to you that having a group of specialists like yourselves on hand to help protect Korvosa from itself may mean the difference between life and death for the city.

In any event, Kroft does ask where you will be staying in Korvosa, and how she can contact you if she has an opportunity for you. She doesn’t need their aid currently, but imagines it won’t be long before their
services will be required.

Anything you want to ask her?

Kayleigh frets a bit when Cressida again asks where she can contact the group, even though the field marshal had asked that same question the last time they'd met with her. She's frazzled...but she's strong! She'll be all right, the cleric thinks.

After reminding Cressida that the group has moved into Zellara's old home, she asks the woman what she knows about the recent ship sinking, adding that word on the streets seems wildly speculative and likely wrong.

At breakfast, Vedika advises Kayleigh, "A little milk helps to soften the eggs, whisk it in while mixing the eggs before they hit the hot pan, along with whatever spices or herbs you plan to add. Toss a little oil on the pan first, so the eggs don't brown up on the outside and become crunchy. That's the simplest bits of advice."

"You did a good job on those pancakes, by the way!"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Do, uh, do you have a breakdown of how these battle lines are forming? Like, are there specific people in the civic government to watch out for?"

At the end of the riots, Ileosa’s bodyguard Sabina appeared in public for the first time clad in a remarkable suit of exquisitely fashioned full-plate armor.

With its red plume and crimson highlights, the armor serves as protection as much as it does a uniform, and although most gossip in the days
that followed focuses on Blackjack’s daring rescue, not a few tongues wagged about the mysterious figure at the queen’s side.

Sabina represents the Gray Maidens, a military group created by Queen Ileosa and loyal only to her that serves increasingly as both a royal guard and city enforcers.

She places her bodyguard and lover Sabina Merrin in command of this elite force, at the same time, she began handselecting new recruits into the Gray Maidens, choosing beautiful young fighters, cavaliers, and the like, most of whom are initially conscripted from the Sable Company, the Order of the Nail, and the Korvosan Guard.

Conscripts to the Gray Maidens must pass the queen’s own examination for beauty and strength.

So the Queen is taking from the three military forces in Korvosa and building her private force. One she is placing in overall command of enforcing the law.

While Cressida Croft as commander of the guard is obeying the Queen, privately she is concerned as she as told you. How the other groups are reacting isn't known to the public at the moment.

Long story short. The Korvosan guard, the Sable company & the Order of the Nail handled law enforcement and other problems. Now Ileosa is setting her Gray maidens as the authority.

What now?

When she has some free time, Kayleigh wanders through the main streets near Zellara's home, both to acquaint herself better with this new neighborhood and to ask the locals about the Gray Maidens and their activities in the area.

Kayleigh Fairwind Diplomacy Check (Gather Information--Gray Maidens): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24

Hours Taken: 1d4 ⇒ 2

While you are digesting the news that Marshall Croft gave you Nethen is taken aside by a very attractive Cleric of Calistria and has a very tense if quiet discussion with her.

He returns shortly after and regretfully informs you that he has to leave the party as he is called to another mission.

Nethen drops out. As a Calistrian hunter I thought a mission from his faith would be a good enough reason. Time to look for some muscle. :)

Brigita frowns at the fighter leaving, but part of her is relieved that she is no longer sharing a communal sleeping space with a man. Since her love's death, she has a slight uncomfortableness around the opposite gender. Memories tugging at her heart. Not during work with its distraction and focus, but only when she is trying to recover and unwind.

"I'm pretty sure things are only going to get worse before they get better, and I think I'm reading things well enough to think that we plan on continuing to do what we can to help the city yes?" Ariadne asks her companions as they take stock of things after Nethen's departure.

Brig's head snaps away from where she was watching Nethen leave, to Ariadne in shock. "Yes" the burly woman says with mild offense. The offense looks better than the sadness that had been clouding her eyes a moment before.

"Not that I doubted it for a second, but I had to ask. Are you okay, Brig?" The magus asks with genuine concern in her voice

The moment of no return was upon her. Though Kayleigh herself wanted to just shrink back into the shadows of Old Korvosa to live the rest of her quiet life, she knew that her goddess--one who embraced a righteous uprising against an unjust tyrant--would have none of that. She nods meekly at Ariadne's words.

The question startled Brig for a moment, and then she shrugged one big shoulder "No, but who is?"

There is a pair of hard bangs on the door. BANG! BANG! A couple seconds then another. BANG! The sound of something hitting the floor. A creak. "Damn!" The day had started bad enough and it was becoming pretty clear it had no intention to get better. Some days are like unaged yaksa... you take a deep breath, chug it, make a bold face, curse your forebears and their forebears, resist the urge to spit on the floor and then smile so the others don't see how you nearly died. You don't want to give people the satisfaction.

Anyone checking the door sees a man already inside fumbling with the broken doorknob. He is short, around five feet and a half, but remarkably strong as if to compensate something. The dark skin and the various tattoos mark him as a shoanti, but his clothes are of Korvosan cut. Bald as an olive and clean shaved as well. His jaws are very wide, with some underbite. While wearing a fancy breastplate of obvious dwarven craftsmanship, he seems unarmed of any weapons, even if he carries a knife for gutting fish and a grappling hook tied to a coiled reddish rope by his waist.

"The knob was already bad."

A woman comes to see what the noise is. A Varisian woman built like an oak, who grows dark like stormclouds when she looks at the knob. "You. Broke. Our. Door?" it didn't sound like a question, more like an attack and the way her big fists are curling and tightening it might be one, in reality, any second from now.

"It fell on its own." After he banged the door. With care. "The whole place seems falling on its own." But everything and everywhere is, lately.

Eyeing the curled fists, he adds. "Kroft sent me here, since I 'volunteered' to help. Name's Zahur." He wasn't really eager about adding a punch to this s&!&ty day.

At Krofts's name, the fists loosened, slightly. "Brigita" the woman says as she passes him and then works at getting the door to workable. A hammer and other tools come out of a pouch. "The others are back there." she directs, paying more attention to the knob than the man.

Another woman, a tall, athletically built (though nowhere as powerfully as the glaring brunette) redhead comes to the door standing a bit back, her green eyes narrowing, as the wicked puckered scar on the left side of her face twitches.

"Hello Zahur, I'm Ariadne. You said the Field Marshall told you where to find us?" Her eyes shift to Brig as she fixes the door, an almost imperceptible nod to herself, satisfied with the tactical positioning of having the stranger between them.

A third human female--this one with short, dirty blonde hair--peeks around a corner deeper inside the domicile to see what the ruckus is about. A year or two on either side of 20, the young lady wears a slightly dirty white tabard of some sort over a pair of simple trousers. The expression on her wide-eyed face is difficult to read at a quick glance; she might be a bit timid or shy, she might project an aura of kindness mixed with naivety, or she could just be unfazed by the commotion and cool as a cucumber.

She doesn't seem fearful, however. Stepping into the room, she offers a soft smile and a quick wave of her hand. "I'm Kayleigh. Any friend of Field Commander Kroft is a friend of ours." As soon as the words pass her lips, Kayleigh glances nervously at the other women present, looking a bit flustered like maybe she's unintentionally put words into her friends' mouths.

So that was a nasty scar. Poor girl. Zahur wasn't a soft heart or a knight in shiny armor, but he felt like beating good the one who did that. Well, it could be a combat wound as well and... he was staring too much already.

"That she did. Told to look for a blonde girl, a brunette, a redhead and an exotic beauty one." Which was probably neither of these three. Not that they were not pretty in their own ways, but none of them he'd classify as exotic. "Also mentioned your names, but I suck with that."

"I'd not say I'm her friend, to be honest." Honesty was good when meeting new people, when surrounded, and when on unknown territory. Goes triple when all those apply. "So my restaurant was ransacked last night and I went for the guard for some help, for this is why we pay our bloody taxes." He crosses his arms. "Then I was basically told that it sucks to be me, that the guard could do s$~+ because they either had too much on their plate or because our dear Queen's new tins are in charge now, so if I wanted it solved I'd have to do it on my own." There was a lot of angriness and shouting, and cursing omitted on his story though.

"And I told her that, well, I might actually do it, but that I'd not take it if they came after me with charges of assault. And she said 'deal', said me to look for you and shooed me away like a pig out of a kitchen."

Kayleigh remains silent, casually taking in the man's story. She'd never seen a pig in a kitchen, so that part at least sounded rather suspect.

Vedika finally peeks in, though she doesn't try to squeeze into the already-overcrowded room. Bereft of her usual make-up, the tiny green scales along the outer edges of her eyes glitter of their own accord.

"Is someone finally knocking this shack down? I can't say I'm surprised."

She tilts her head slightly and adds, "What's up with the new guy?"

"He claims that Marshall Kroft told him where to find us. Needed help from the Guard and got turned away because...of course he did." Ariadne says without taking her eyes off of Zahur. "By the way, Kroft thinks you're an exotic beauty." she says with a hint of a grin in her voice.

Kayleigh lets out a giggle at Ariadne's last words. "I'm blonde!" she intones, her voice turning a bit ditsy.

Vedika glances to Zahur, then back to Ariadne and says, "Wait, Kroft was flirting with me? Just a sec, I need to touch up my make-up."

Brit, still fiddling with the door, laughs. Not a monumental feat, not like bashing a orgekin with her massive hammer, but since no one had heard it yet, it was at least surprising.

It even surprised Brit. Thankfully she turned toward the door, so no one saw her cheeks flare briefly.

"He claims that Marshall Kroft told him where to find us. Needed help from the Guard and got turned away because...of course he did." Ariadne says without taking her eyes off of Zahur. "By the way, Kroft thinks you're an exotic beauty." she says with a hint of a grin in her voice.

"And you claim I'm claiming. I'm telling the truth." He shrugs. What did he get in to... "You don't believe me, you can ask Kroft yourself, but, fair warning, she was particularly grumpy and pissed after talking to me." For some mysterious reason, since Zahur is remarkably polite.

Vedika glances to Zahur, then back to Ariadne and says, "Wait, Kroft was flirting with me? Just a sec, I need to touch up my make-up."

"Ha! Don't fool yourself girl, she is the exotic beauty." He points to Brigita, working on the door. "You are the brunette."

Kayleigh tries to muffle a sudden unexpected laugh at Zahur's words...which, of course, results in an undignified and unladylike snort.

After a sufficient period as blushing, Kayleigh regains a semblance of control. "Wow--I didn't realize how long it's been since I last laughed; things have been so grim. That felt good...and needed."

At his declaration, Brig looked to see the man pointing at her, which made the flush and desire to laugh disappear like ice-cold water on a candle. Without responding, Brig goes back to her work on the door. "It was sticking" she admitted, after experimenting, then shaved off a slim curl from the door jam, fixing the door. "Knock next time, instead of breaking in."

"Cutting. I'll make sure to cry next time I'm having sex."

And just like that the mood shifted from joyful to something else. Among his many gifts, this one was his mother's least favorite. "So that was..." Fun? "...something I'm sure, but you still need to decide if you are trusting me or not."

"If you are, great, let's get on with this so you can fill me in with that you are planning on doing." He then shrugs. "But if you are not, then I'm on my way. S~!# is not going to solve on their own. If you change your mind, just look for me on Crow Street."

Ariadne takes in Kayleigh's burts of laughter, the withering tone of Vedika's response, and Brig's sudden shift in mood, so soon after showing enjoyment for the first time.

The magus takes a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. "I hope you're better at running your restaurant than you are at making friends. Anyway, Fieldmarshal Kroft was right to send you to us for help, it's kind of what we do. WHat exactly do you need? Do you know who ransacked the place, or why?"

"...and what sort of food do you serve in your restaurant?" Kayleigh inquires curiously.

He was for sure better at cooking than at making friends. Running his place though? Debatable to say the least, for he was getting famous, or infamous, for ranting at his customers. "I cook authentic Shoanti food." Zahur answers Kayleigh in a somewhat challenging way, daring her to say that it wasn't food. A good amount of people from Korvosa had such a big opinion about themselves and how civilized they were and how the Shoanti were just a bunch of barbaric primitives incapable of doing anything but yell.

"And no, I've no idea who did that, otherwise I'd be dragging their sorry asses back to my place to have them fixing it." Then what did he want actually? "I... Just need to keep myself busy doing something. Things are s#*~ty around here, but I'm too stubborn to pack and leave. I'm also not rebuilding my restaurant myself just to have it treated again. I understood you are doing something to turn Korvosa back to how it was and that is what I'm interested in."

Kayleigh averts her eyes before answering Zahur. "I'd be willing to try something new." Turning to the others, she adds, "Zahur seems nice; I think we can trust him."

Brig knows she is still new to this group of vigilantes, but she still nods (with a sigh) when anyone looks to her for her acceptance.

The next few days are quiet, there seems to be an unsettled air to the city. Something bad is brewing and people are hunched over, looking over their shoulders waiting for the hammer to drop?

It could just be paranoia, or it could be survival instinct learned from the recent troubles.

While you are adjusting to your colorful new companion you receive a vistor. Grau Soldado. You only met him briefly during the riots where he was a depressed drunk.

Ariadne, Vedika were the ones who met him. He was drunkenly making trouble and the party talked some sense into him.

Now he is much changed. Shaved,, bathed and sobered up. Like Zahur he got your address from Marshall Croft. While she can no longer officially work with you it seems she hopes you can still solve problems for her on the quiet.

Grau, despite looking much better than the last time Araidne & Vedika met him still looks very troubled. He's come to ask your aid. "“My niece is sick. I don’t know what she has and neither does anyone in Trail’s End. She’s broken out all over in red pocks and can barely keep down food, or even the swill that goodfor-nothing herbalist gave her. Her mother’s talking about going to the Bank of Abadar, but can’t afford to pay the prices their clerics would demand. Then I remembered how you and your friends handled yourselves during the riots, and how you aided me, and I figured you could help. A bunch of resourceful folk like you, I’d bet if you don’t already have a way to fix this, you must know who can. Surely you can’t just sit by while a child suffers, can you?”

What is your response?

Though she doesn't know Grau in the least, Kayleigh begins packing up her healer's gear almost immediately after the man finishes talking.

"Um...where's this 'Trail's End' you speak of?"

Kayleigh Fairwind Knowledge (local) Check (Trail's End): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

Vedika seems to mellow to Zahur as the day goes on, principally when it comes to sharing knowledge about cooking with various spices.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Kayleigh, I'm sure you can fix this, but is there a good way to make sure you don't get infected?"

Kayleigh stops in her tracks as she gathers her healing paraphernalia. Her face is blank, as though she'd never given a thought to her own health.

"Well, we don't know that it's contagious--Grau seems fine," she replies slowly. "I suppose I could cast Milani's blessing (a.k.a. guidance) on myself every minute for a bit of added protection...maybe wear some cloth over my nose and mouth in case the illness is airborne in nature...."

The selfless healer adds a few items to her backpack after hearing Vedika's concerns, but it appears she intends to visit Grau's niece nonetheless.

"I've always got a remove disease spell prepared--part of being a merciful healer; this shouldn't be a big deal."

Giving Grau a warm smile, Kayleigh adds, "I'm happy to be of assistance. Let's see if I can get your niece back on her feet and feeling better!"

"I just want to make sure you are careful not to get yourself sick too!"

Kayleigh smiles, seemingly touched by Vedika's concern. "Putting yourself in some measure of danger is part of being a healer," she replies. "Whether it's slipping into combat to heal an ally's wounds or risking infection while treating a sickness in others. There's always some risk involved."

knowledge local: 1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 11 + 2 = 25 +2 is from her city map to id a location

"I know where it is" Brig says when Kayleigh asks where Trail's End is, and she also knows it is dangerous. The blacksmith grabs her ready bag and hefts her hammer to her shoulder. If there is a questioning look thrown her way, she shrugs "I know about anatomy, so I might be some help" of course her knowledge is born for the dissection of corpses to better enhance her body into a weapon for vengeance/justice. Studies that stopped once she started sharing a residence.

bluff: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Is Zahur staying with us or should we stop by and get him?

Ariadne can't help but smile at Kayleigh's selfless readiness to help the sick girl, though she definitely shares Vedika's concern. Brig's readiness to add her knowledge of anatomy to help, also comes as no surprise, and the magus nods, walking into the other room and bucking on her sword belt and breastplate.

"We'll definitely help, but Kayleigh, please take every percaution you can think of. Vedika's right, and I'm sure Milani protects you, but you should still be as safe as possible."

SENSE MOTIVE: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

She was right though, they all chose to put themselves in danger to help people in one way or another, be it with healing hands, a hammer or a blade.

"We should swing by Zahur's place and get him, on the way there. An extra pair of hands would help, and I'm sure he'd rather be doing something than nothing."

Zahur is found finishing filling some blood sausages. His hands are still reddish and by his side there are large amount of scraps of onions, garlic, coriander and a reasonable amount of chilly seeds. "See what I told you the other day?" He asks Vedika. "What a waste! But if I don't cut the heat, these soft people won't stop complaining. 'Oh, my mouth burns'. 'Oh, I can't stop crying'. 'Oh, I had to crap with my ass inside the river'. Bah!"

The sausages done, he then takes a look on the scraps while listening to the others and Grau, cutting the rotten parts and throwing them in a bucket, while putting the chilly seeds in a tray to dry and the non-rotten bits in a pan to make a soup later. Some people wasted too much food, and that was an absurd, specially in lean times as these.

"So you are healers now? Ugh, can't help with that, but Trail's End is no place for pretty girls such as you lot to walk alone." Despite his words, it should be clear to the others he is joking and not diminishing them in any way.

Kayleigh has a pretty good idea why Brigita offered to accompany her. She thanks her friends for accompanying her, admitting that she's not much of a fighter and can't even run away from a scrap very well in her heavier armor.

At Zahur's place, her tender nose twitches at the zestiness of some of the spices' scents. She realizes that she's one of the 'soft' people Zahur's complaining about. She does, however, sympathize with the man's antipathy toward wasting food.

Darn! Before I became an adventurer, I always had purify food and drink prepared before I went out into the city.

Kayleigh Fairwind Sense Motive Check: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27

Zahur is found finishing filling some blood sausages. His hands are still reddish and by his side there are large amount of scraps of onions, garlic, coriander and a reasonable amount of chilly seeds. "See what I told you the other day?" He asks Vedika. "What a waste! But if I don't cut the heat, these soft people won't stop complaining. 'Oh, my mouth burns'. 'Oh, I can't stop crying'. 'Oh, I had to crap with my ass inside the river'. Bah!"

The sausages done, he then takes a look on the scraps while listening to the others and Grau, cutting the rotten parts and throwing them in a bucket, while putting the chilly seeds in a tray to dry and the non-rotten bits in a pan to make a soup later. Some people wasted too much food, and that was an absurd, specially in lean times as these.

"So you are healers now? Ugh, can't help with that, but Trail's End is no place for pretty girls such as you lot to walk alone." Despite his words, it should be clear to the others he is joking and not diminishing them in any way.

"RIGHT?!? I put in a dash of coriander, some cumin, mustard, and turmeric, and suddenly everyone's complaining about 'why is it yellow' and 'why do I feel like I'm breathing fire.' Live a little! If you can't breathe fire every once in a while, what's the point?" says Vedika.

"Are you keeping those sausage ends or can I put them in my soil heap for the garden? You can't get good turmeric in this town, I have to grow it myself."

Meanwhile the rogue checks the points on her latest batch of shuriken, shaking her head sadly. "Ugh. Nobody here knows how to grind the point on these. I might as well be throwing forks. It would be too much to ask to get a decent sanpkhang."

Tayce and Brienna Soldado live in a small community northeast of Korvosa called Trail’s End. Made up primarily of Varisians—with a few Shoanti and socially disaffected Chelaxians—Trail’s End is poor and reputedly dangerous, but the neighborhood feels more like a small town than any district within the city proper.

The criminal element is obvious and impossible to ignore in the face of dozens of toughs and thugs who loiter on the streets, mostly Sczarni brutes who call themselves the Bashwater Boys and prey exclusively upon Chelaxians and other outsiders.

Knowing most city folks’ distaste for Varisia’s natives, the residents of Trail’s End return such prejudices, creating a community that thrives off Korvosan coin but reviles the city all the same.

Tayce Soldado lives here with her three children, Brienna, Charlo, and Rello. Despite being only half-blooded Varisians, Tayce’s sons have distinctly Varisian features, with unruly black hair,
brown eyes, and olive skin, while Brienna takes more after her father, having a paler complexion, with light hair and freckles.

Tayce and her family are well known and quietly respected in Trail’s End, and have nothing to fear from the local Sczarni toughs. While Tayce works as a washerwoman for those in the community and several families in North Point, her children also bring in a few coins for the family,
with Brienna working as a maid, while Charlo and Rello work as unofficial apprentices to a wheelwright friend of the family.

Tayce is a single mother. Her husband Bayan was murdered long ago by highwaymen. Left with three children to raise alone, Tayce dedicated her life to bringing them up right.

Grau visits the family at least once a week to ensure that they’re safe and have everything they need. He respects and honestly likes Tayce, and his visits are inspired by familial concern and fraternal obligation, not any one-sided feelings for his brother’s widow.

The Soldado home is a squat, two-story wooden building in desperate need of repair. Overall, the building feels like the home of a family too busy living to bother with tedious chores.

Inside, the house is remarkably clean and well kept, filled with worn furniture and decorated with the crafts and scribbling of children. Tayce ceded the one bedroom to her children years ago and sleeps on a
settee on the first floor. Since Brienna’s illness, though, the boys have joined their mother downstairs.

When Grau and the party reach Tayce’s home, Charlo and Rello are playing quietly in the living room, while Tayce attends Brienna upstairs. Every few minutes, a spasm of ragged coughing fills the house from above.

Ishani Dhatri, an acolyte from the Bank of Abadar, is in the
kitchen with a bag of herbs, brewing some concoction that smells of cinnamon and anise. Upon seeing the man still there, Grau is obviously displeased and goes upstairs to have a sternly whispered conversation with Tayce.

What is everyone doing?