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As you talk with the stranger Ariadne feels the Harrow deck she found in Lamm's lair stir slightly in her pack.
As you watch an image forms in the room before you, one of Zellera.
She smiles gently at Eric, "Hello Eric, it is good to see you again. Unfortunately things have not gone well for me since you last visited."
She explains to everybody what has really happened. You aren’t the only ones who have been wronged by Gaedren.
Zellara lost a valuable family heirloom, an exquisite harrow deck, to one of Gaedren’s pickpockets a year ago. When he learned of the theft, Zellara’s son Eran took it upon himself to get the deck back.
He was murdered by Gaedren’s thugs and his head and hands were returned to Zellara in a box as a threat. Zellara went to the Korvosan Guard,
but although sympathetic, they had little additional time or resources to devote to the crime lord.
Frustrated, desperate, and harboring a growing need for revenge, Zellara took it upon herself to track down Gaedren. She sold most of her belongings, purchased a new harrow deck, and called upon the cards for aid.
Her latent magical skill, combined with her persistence and obsession, gave her results—yet as she would soon learn, not all harrowings point to triumph.
She discovered the location of Gaedren’s current hideout, but was seen when she attempted to infiltrate the old fishery where he dwelled. Gaedren’s thugs grabbed her and brought her below to stand before the master. The crime lord was impressed that she’d gone through so much trouble to find him, but when she spat on him and cursed him, his anger got the better of him and he ordered her killed.
He fed her body to his alligator, but he saved her head, keeping it in a box in his lair alongside her original stolen harrow deck. These cards, bloodstained and discarded, became the focus for Zellara’s anguish and
despair.
Her spirit infused and haunted them, and so she used her newfound supernatural power to call the party to her old home and bring down Gaedren Lamm.
ZELLARA’S HARROW DECK
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SLOT none CL 10th WEIGHT 1 lb.
AURA moderate divination
Alignment chaotic good Senses 60 ft.
Int 10 Wis 13 Cha 13 Ego 8 Language empathy (but see below)
Hand-painted images decorate this harrow deck, and the cards frames are gilded in silver so that they sparkle and flash under lighting. Despite the worn condition of the card backs, the images on the faces are so vibrant they seem to move when viewed out of the corner of the eye.
The deck handles with surprising ease, almost shuffling itself. A bent, torn, or lost card always seems to mend itself or reappear when no one is looking.
These features are subtle manifestations of the spirit that haunts the cards. In life, Zellara lived by this deck, and in death, she has become the deck. Although this magical harrow deck wasn’t created using the standard method for creating magic items, it should nonetheless be treated as an intelligent magic item.
Zellara can sense the world around the deck via sight and sound, and she can communicate with anyone who holds the deck via empathy. She can create a major image once per day, often doing so to generate an image of herself manipulating the cards—in this manner, she can carry on conversations with other creatures in Common or Varisian.
She can also cast identify for anyone who holds one of the cards of the deck to his forehead (a move action) up to three times per day.
Zellara’s harrow deck has a special purpose as well: to defend and protect the city of Korvosa, her home in life and in death. In order to attain this purpose, she can periodically perform powerful harrow readings for those she has chosen as Korvosa’s defenders—the PCs.
These harrowings grant those who benefit from them a number of Harrow Points that can be used to manipulate fate and chance. See The Harrow on page 416 for more details on this complex power.
Zellara can suppress the deck’s powers at will and doesn’t hesitate to do so if anyone attempts to sell the deck or otherwise displeases her. At best, a foolish character could possibly sell the cards as a standard harrow deck for about 50 gp—thus, no pricing information for the deck is needed.
Anything you wish to ask Zellera?
Quickly overcoming the surprise at the now familiar sight of Zellara's calming image, as she explains the events leading up to the group's assembly, Ariadne studies the stranger...Eric, as the man faces the loss of an old friend.
Facing Zellara, she gives the...spirit...ghost... a sad smile. "I'm sorry we weren't able to meet and help you before this happened, Zellara, but know that thanks to you, countless children have been given a chance at a better life, and Lamm won't be hurting anyone anymore. Though there are still those that need help, Vedika's sister especially. While you were...I guess...haunting Lamm's place, were you able to see what he was doing?"
In turn, Eric stares at the sudden appearance, then looks down. The mixture of shame and sorrow is palpable in his voice.
"So it's true then. I... I'm sorry as well, Zellara. Forgive me," He swallows alway the lump in his throat. "If I hadn't been traveling so much, perhaps i could have helped you. Or these people, at least, to avenge your death. Is... is there anywhere you wish your remains to be buried? Any heirloom we might retrieve that was on your body when it was eaten? Any priest or more experienced shaman we can consult for your last rites? Just name it, and I'll do my best."
Unsure what else to say or ask right now, he stays silent until the topic of the missing sister is discussed. "Did Gaedren... sell children to others? Was there a ledger of sorts? Or... Zellara, you said your body was eaten..."
He doesn't finish as the thought is almost too horrible to think about. But not even scum like Gaedren would feed children to sharks... right?
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Vazhimort pipes up. "Hi Zellera! This is all very strange and I love it! We got the REVENGE! We captured Gadrenn Lamm in a basement room that he hardly ever left and turned him over to the guards to put him in a jail cell! And all of his lieutenants?! We KILLED them instead because they were between us and Lamm! But they probably deserved some good ol' REVENGE, too!"
Vazhimort pauses, looking up while slightly swaying his head from side to side as he thinks over what he's just said.
"Anyway, aside from all of that, Lamm can't distribute anymore drugs, so that's less future lives that may be ruined! Unless they're ruined by other things!"
Turning suddenly from Zellera to Eric, "Hi! I'm Vazhimort!"
"Um, hi? You're... rather lively. Still, good to meet you," He extends a hand to the gnome. "'May your yields ever be bountiful and your travels unburned by thirst or famine.'" He adds, with a slight bow.
He glances at the rat as if seeking confirmation on something. The rodens looks back at him but eventually nods. Then it takes a few steps back from Zellara's ghostly appearance and climbs up the man's hair to disappear under the fur headdress.
"Anyway, I should probably introduce myself, yes. As Zellara said, I am Eric. Formally of the Gennady's who live in The Heights. Though mother often said she was happier working as a Calistrian priestess than being 'stuck up there playing dress up', in her words..." Eris continues, shrugging and looking at the others and Zellara in alternating fashion. "And you might you all be?"
"Well met, Eric, I am Ariadne. I grew up under Lamm's thumb until...he had no further use for me." she says turning her head slightly to emphasize her scarred visage.
"I've spent a lot of time working to help clean up the worst parts of this city, and being able to fight those that would oppress the less fortunate." the tall warrior says, rising and taking a step forward to shake Eric's hand.
"Well met indeed. You look pretty tough, yes. Not someone I'd like to go up against in a real fight... and I'm thankful I didn't have to." He shakes her hand and follows her gesture towards her face. Having a bit more time to study it now, he winces. "Ah. Looks like he did a real number on you, or his men at any rate... I wish I could fix it for you. I am a healer of some skill but nowhere near good enough to remove mass scarring of that nature. At least, not yet. Should I ever be, I'll let you know, as a fellow friend of Zellara."
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"Um, hi? You're... rather lively."
Vazhimort flinces at Eric's words.
"Too soon!" he whispers as he cuts his eyes over to Zellara's ghost. But he returns the shaman's handshake.
.
Nethen listens, somewhat sadly, as Zellera recounts the tale of her demise at the hands of Gaedren Lamm. He feels even more satisfied that the bastard reaped what he sowed and will spend the rest of his miserable life as a nobody rotting in prison.
"I'm Nethen," he says, holding a hand out to the newcomer. He notices the blood on his hand and quickly wipes it off on his trousers before proffering his hand again. "You're a healer?" he asks. "If you've a moment, I could do with someone to cast an eye over this," he says, pulling up his ragged trouser leg to reveal his bloodied and bitten calf.
"Too soon!" he whispers as he cuts his eyes over to Zellara's ghost. But he returns the shaman's handshake.
Eric blinks momentarily, unsure if he was missing something. Then he follows the gnome's gaze to Zellara and winces. "Oh, right! Careless words of mine, indeed. Sorry, Zellara." He inclines his head by way of apology.
"I'm Nethen," he says, holding a hand out to the newcomer. He notices the blood on his hand and quickly wipes it off on his trousers before proffering his hand again. "You're a healer? If you've a moment, I could do with someone to cast an eye over this," he says, pulling up his ragged trouser leg to reveal his bloodied and bitten calf.
The Shaman shakes Nethen's hand, then looks at the ruined mess that is his leg. He raises an eyebrow at the extensive damage. "Assuming our hostess doesn't mind a bit of blood coming on a table of hers, sure. Just lay down over there and I'll get the saw."
He holds the look for a good three seconds before chuckling. "Just kidding - I hope we don't have to take that off. You DO need to lay down, though. I'll have to clean that good first, make sure it doesn't get infected. Well, infected any more, I suppose."
When that doesn't seem to do it, he sighs. "Well, they REALLY messed you up there, that's for sure. Looks like they cut all the way into the bone - from the back. It's an absolute miracle you're still walking and didn't bleed out! You're made of some stern stuff, my friend. Wounds like that can kill a normal person. Twice even, probably. So there's this Shoanti ritual I can try next..."
Making a few hand gestures, he mutters: "Bound by fate, sharing the sun, chained to sea. We share our blood and continue our vigil." The shaman grits his teeth as pain seems to hit him, but Nethen instead feels more relief.
"There! Right as rain. I think a night of sleep will get us both back up to speed without issue in the morning."
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As you slowly begin to learn of the newcomer you hear something outside. Something alarming!
At first barely audible to you but rising quickly the frantic clang of alarm bells sing out in harmony with a multifarious cacophony of screams, the clash of steel on steel, shrieks of terror, and even the periodic detonation of arcane power.
Something is shaking the city, something big!
Stepping out onto the street you see a wing of Sable Company hippogriff riders swooping overhead, angling toward Castle Korvosa at a breakneck pace. One of the badly wounded hippogriff mounts rains blood down on the street around you before it succumbs and crashes headlong into a statue,
taking its rider and itself to a messy, bone-crunching demise.
The others in the flight do not pause to check on their fallen ally. Amid the chaos, the voice of a Korvosan herald cuts through the din: “The king is dead! Long live the queen!” only to be shouted down by ragged cries of “Hang the queen!” or “The usurper must die!” The city has gone mad while you returned to Zellera's.
What are you doing?
The slender leather-clad woman says, "This... this is a time of disaster and opportunity. We have to go find my sister right now, before something awful happens! People are going to be going wild throughout the city!"
Nethen grits his teeth as Eric mentions removing his leg, knowing that the damage is extensive enough that he might have to forfeit his leg - he'd seen plenty of lesser wounds cost people arms and legs, and lives, before. The smile that eventually tells Nethen that he's being joked with comes as a welcome relief and he lies down where indicated to have his leg looked at.
"Thank you, your kindness means a lot," he says as Eric begins his work. Having recently lived a life with little kindness the man's warm touch and gentle ministrations are significant acts to Nethen. "A good night's sleep would sort out a lot right now," he replies.
"What's going on?" Nethen asks as noise rises up around them. He tests his leg, feeling little pain and improved movement, before opening the door onto the street. The city seems to be descending into chaos before his very eyes. "Sounds like a revolution," he says to no-one in particular. He turns back to Vedika. "You're right, if we're going to find her it needs to be now before whatever this is," he says, gesturing outside "gets any worse."
Looking around in horror at the utter chaos, Ariadne nods in agreement. "You're right. If things are out of control as it seems, the city guards will be locking things down soon, which will make getting to her damned near impossible. Rest will gave to wait."
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It wasn't often you saw your world crash and burn around you - yet this was such a day.
Eric gapes at the destruction and violence, and as he sees, hears, even smells it, all he can wonder about is whether the pretty girl from the Heights was safe. And his father too, maybe, a little... but if this WAS a revolution, was the upper class going to be overthrown? He didn't even know her and yet...
The rat on his shoulder pinches his cheek, and he forces himself back to the present. Yes, Vedika's missing little sister, they'd had to find her too. He owed it to Zellara's avengers. It's just that...
"Do we have ANY idea where to look for her?" Eric asks the group. "I didn't hear anything yet about a destination. Wasn't she supposed to be at Gaedren? Did you find any clue whatsover? This place is going to get more and more violent by the hour!"
"Yes, sorry, just bringing you up to speed," says Vedika hastily. "Gaedren sold her to someone in the Heights, nicknamed 'the pet-maker'. My sister's name is Siti. She has brown skin and hair like mine. I don't know where we would find this pet-maker but I know that time is especially of the essence! If the city is falling into turmoil, I need to fetch her back and do my best to keep her safe!"
"Okay, lead the way! truth be told that's a very fortunate coincidence... there's someone there I'd like to check on!"
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THE KING IS DEAD
Eodred II’s demise takes the city by surprise—true, his health had been declining, but his sudden turn catches most of the government and citizenry off guard. Rumors spread quickly that he suffered from some disease beyond what even the priesthoods of Sarenrae and Abadar could cure.
Some say that even Asmodeus’s disciples were summoned from their pentacle temple in the deep of night to try their hand at restoring the king. With the king’s death, Queen Ileosa ascends the Crimson Throne, much to the displeasure of most Korvosans, who view her as a petulant gold-digger at best.
Worse, the castle seneschal has vanished, supposedly slain in one of the initial riots that broke out at the base of Castle Korvosa when the grim
news of Eodred II’s death was proclaimed.
Desperate citizens already stifled by Eodred II’s spendthrift reign—salty dock workers, soot-covered smiths, and all manner of artisans and laborers—roar at the thought of Ileosa taking the throne. Stevedores abandon the seafront wards and caravan guards leave Northgate.
Frustrated merchant ships and wagon convoys turn around when they find no one to offload their goods, much less buy them. The movement of food and other staples into the city slows to a trickle, and thousands vie for the last sack of flour or bundle of firewood in the market.
Riots erupt throughout the streets. Those who do not rove the streets with cudgel and torch in hand instead lock their doors against the
gathering mob. The Bank of Abadar closes its gilded gates, and a contingent of the Coin’s Faithful stand at the ready, armed with crossbows to repel would-be looters.
The world-famous (some would argue infamous) institution of learning known as the Acadamae closes its doors as well, shutting students and professors within its walls until order can be restored. In the space of a dozen hours, all of Korvosa’s oppression and anger explode into chaos.
The city perches on the edge of anarchy.
======================================================================
As you travel cautiously through the unsafe streets, hands resting on weapons as a caution and a threat to any who would take you on you are surprised by the rantings of a madman.
This wild-haired and sick-looking lunatic fixates on Vedika, stopping his shouts of, “The Eye of Groetus has turned from the Boneyard to look upon Korvosa!” when he sees her.
He screams instead at Vedika will near death during a time of great sickness and peril during Korvosa’s darkest hour, and that this event will usher in a new age of writhing doom.
He then rushes at her, arms out wide to embrace her?
What are you doing?
Watching the lunatic closely, Ariadne takes a step in front of Vedika, drawing her sword as she does, her other hand extended before her in an arcane gesture as she speaks an incantation, a disorienting sigil materializing in front of him.
"If we're going to look for loved ones now is the time," Nethen says as he looks around at a city descending into chaos. He moves through the streets cautiously, gripping the whip at his belt, his eyes scanning for danger. As the raving man approaches Vedika he uncoils his whip and looks around for other chancers that might be trying to take advantage of the commotion.
Eric, in turn, also steps in front of Vedika and holds out the branch in front of him. "Look, we're rather busy. And the sun will rise tomorrow just as sure as it will today. The difference is what and who will be left of the city. We're trying to save people, so don't get in our way, and kindly keep Groetus to yourself!"
The Madman ignores your words, and Ariadne's spell, lunging forward arms spread until Eric spits him on his spear. The Madman slumps to the ground dead.
You move on, no one is paying you any attention, even after you killed a man. In fact from the sounds of things many people are taking the chance to settle old scores tonight.
You are drawing close to Crest circle east, following a maze of backstreets and alleys when you are attacked by two Imps swooping on you with malicious chuckles.
A student at the Acadamae is required to undertake several dangerous steps in order to graduate, one of which is the summoning of an imp. Many students opt to take imps as familiars, but just as many fail and let those imps get loose. As a result, imps are a constant problem in Korvosa. Nests of them lurk in the eaves of the city’s Shingles, often attempting to ally with or manipulate city gangs. These seem to have taken the events of the night as a chance to cause mayhem.
Nethen may act.
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"Look out, we've got company," Nethen calls, pointing upwards at the flying devils circling above. He moves into the alleyway where one of them hovers, a malevolent look on it's face, and uncoils his whip. He snaps it upwards towards the flying creature, hoping to knock it out of the sky.
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Nethen misses the flying pest and it giggles, casting a spell on him.
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"Your clothing is torn and bloody. You should undress.
Vazhimort & Ariadne may act.
"Save your breath, devil. You're going to need it," Nethen quips as the creature's magic slides off his mind.
The imp is just obscured enough, between the distance and movement, that Ariadne misses the details of the spell, but breathing a sigh of relief as Nethen seems to shake whatever it was off, the battlemage raises her crossbow, quickly firing at the one above the roof gutter, and reloading.
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Loading his crossbow and standing next to Ariadne, Vazhimort looks up at her and says, "Hey, look! We're crossbow buddies!"
Ariadne watches her bolt bounce off the Imp. It sneers mockingly at her. Raising a clawed hand it casts the same spell at her that its companion sent at Nethen?
"Take off your armor and clothes. You stink!"
Vedika & Eric may act. Then back to Nethen.
Vedika flings a shuriken at the imp and misses.
Frowning as the crossbow bolt bounces off the imp with no effect, Ariadne raises her weapon to take another shot only to suddenly freeze. Setting down her crossbow, the magus begins the arduous process of unbuckling the straps to her armor, a blank expression on her face.
Eric unfortunately also misses the exact meaning of the imp's gestures, and in that split second doesn't realize that it has affected Ariadne, which his gaze set forward. Instead, he charges! "Damn pests! Nethen, duck!" he says, stabbing diagonally upward over tbe warrior's head with his spear!
Unfortunately, he seems to miss. Yet he stands ready to skewer either of them coming closer, still!
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You flail around while Ariadne curses as she begins to undress. Unfortunately the sounds of the fight have attracted attention, a street gang sees this as an opportunity and move to jump you while you are distracted.
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Nethen to go.
Nethen ducks beneath Eric's spear thrust before turning back towards the nearest creature and lashing at it again with his whip, the crack echoing from the stone walls that loom across the narrow alley.
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Ouch! the Imp yelps as Nethen stings it slightly. "You're nasty!"
It flies up out of range and settles back to watch the coming brawl with malicious anticipation. .
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Vazhimort & Ariadne may act now.
The eminent danger breaking hold of the imp's spell, Ariadne spares a moment to glare up at the little fiend, before turning her attention back to the incoming hostiles.
Green eyes flare to life as she infuses her armor with additional arcane defense, sigils flaring up along it, while she simultaneously utters an incantation, dropping her crossbow and drawing her sword as she steps between her companions and their enemies, her body beginning to increase in size and mass.
Vazhimort tries not to let it bother him when Ariadne threw down her crossbow. He refocuses those negative feelings on the gang members attacking them, especially one of them that's a little bit off by themself.
Next, he casts sleep nearby, hoping to get three of the gang members in the area of effect.
Vedika draws one of her small curved blades and ducks beside Ariadne's legs to stand beside the enlarged warrior, ready to pounce when someone comes into striking range of the battlemage.
The two bruisers slump to the ground asleep, the scruffy Yellow blinks in some dismay. "Wat'chu doing man?"
Red grins wickedly, "This should be fun!" and goes Invisible.
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Vedika & Iorghil may now act.
Ghil rushes up through a back alley. "I thought that was you; what's going on, these thugs troubling you?" he asks as he conjures up a ghostly dagger to protect him.
Yellow & Green seem to be more concerned with reviving their slumbering comrades, stepping forward to kick the prone brusiers.
.
Eric & Nethen may act
"Look guys, these fellows here just took down Gaedren Lemm. I don't know who you are, and frankly I don't care. But if you have *any* sense of self-preservation, you'll run and hide out the night!" Eric warns, then steps forward to make a warning thrust while the green one was kicking his downed teammate.
With the flying trickster out of reach Nethen turns his attention to the brawl that has developed behind him. He moves towards the fight, now featuring a huge Ariadne, and passes Vaz and Eric to get into the fray. He snaps out his whip at the nearest tough guy.