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Korvosa, the Jewel of Varisia, has long sparkled on the shore of Conqueror’s Bay. Established just over 300 years ago by Cheliax at the height of that empire’s expansion, the city now commands its own destiny. A line of Korvosan kings and queens emerged to rule the city, establishing an infamous seat of power — the Crimson Throne. Rulers have sat upon the Crimson Throne for more than a century, and the city has flourished; yet the monarchy always seems on the brink of disaster. The Crimson Throne is not a prize to be won — it is a curse. No monarch of Korvosa has died of old age, and none has produced an heir while ruling. Even though King Eodred II controls Korvosa more fully than any previous monarch, that control remains tenuous, and many secretly count the days until their latest king falls to what they call the...
3rd Abadarius 4708
Korvosa has been becoming more and more restless over the past weeks. King Eodred is ill, 'dying' many whisper, despite the efforts of high ranking priests of Abadar, Shelyn and Asmodeus to save his life. His young wife, Queen Ileosa, has taken over the day-to-day running of the city and so far has proved a competent, if uninpsired, administrator. Most people attribute this to the influence of Neolandus Kalepopolis the long-standing Seneschal of the city who is widely respected as a fair and capable administrator. However rumors grow in the taverns that shadowy figures have been seen leaving the castle at odd hours and some even claim that Kalepopolis is behind the king's illness - hoping to use the Queen's youth and inexperience to seize power for himself.
This morning, somewhat blustery with a wind charging across the waters of the bay, Adriel Moonflower finds something unexpected lying on top of her neatly folded clothes - a single Harrow card. The card had a message written on the back in bold ink: I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done.
The card is 'The Uprising', showing a mob of people with pitchforks and flaming brands. It symbolises the weak rising as a group against the strong and, in the traditional varisian Harrowing, can never be misaligned
When you arrive, you find yourself at a small, humble home. The interior 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.
A stone paperweight weighs down a simple note on the table: Thank you for coming. I had to step out for a bit, but shall return shortly. Please, have a seat while you wait. The basket under the table contains bread and drink for you.
Indeed, inside the basket is the promise loaf of bread and a bottle of inexpensive but well thought of wine.
Adriel grips the scrumpled note in her hand as she stands before the door to the fortune-telling shop. All day, Adriel has not been able to get the invitation out of her head and her work indeed suffered.
How does Zellara know about my suspicions of Gaedran Lamm? I've been so careful at night investigating this, how has she tied me back to this address of all places?
Is it a trap by one of his associates? Even if it is a trap, its worth going anyway as I've not been able to get a lead on his whereabouts since learning of his activities.
She braces herself before she steps into the shop expecting to be greeted by a fortune-teller, but no - just a note.
Somewhat put off balance, Adriel reads the note carefully and sniffs at the wine, not trusting its providence.
She refuses to sit down for her own safety and starts to look around the room with her eyes, her back to one of the walls. If this was supposed to be an ambush, then they've clearly got a strange tactic.
Nothing appears strange about the house, although the bread doesn't smell as much as Adriel expects. She's just uncorked the wine when an attractive, middle-aged Varisian woman with long dark hair enters the house. She nods politely. ”I apologize for the delay. I see you received my invitation. I am Zellara.” 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. With a nod of her head, she indicates that you should have a seat at the table.
“Thank you for coming, my friend, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you. 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. 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. 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."
“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. I cannot hope to face this man on my own, and you know that 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 we have he would be punished? This criminal has evaded the law for decades. But you know of these frustrations as well, I've heard about your searches for your son." Her expression softens into sorrow. "I only hope that you have more luck than I did in finding your boy. So there we are and I'm sure you agree with me. It is time for him to pay.”
Adriel's heart sinks with sorrow as she hears the devastating tale from the woman which seems awfully similar to her own painful recent history and she places the bottle of wine back on the table, untouched.
Teodore is not dead like Eran. He is missing and you will rescue him from this thug and bring him to justice in the meantime.
"I have been trying to find this man for the last few weeks myself Madam Zellara and I am in your debt for telling me his whereabouts so freely."Adriel begins cautiously, thankful if not wary of the information.
"I share your frustrations with the local guard unit myself, as they have failed me personally. As you seem to be aware, my own son was taken from me three months ago and I have every reason to believe this man is behind it. Pausing for a second, Adriel reminds herself not to get ahead of the matter.
"Please can I ask how you were aware I have been looking into the crime lord? I believed that I was being quite cautious."
"You were." Zellara replies with a smile. "I have been living in this part of the city for decades. I have my... finger on the pulse as it were. And I confess that I pay more attention to stories like yours. Stories," She pauses. "Like mine. I've only recently managed to grease the right palms to find where Gaedren lives and there aren't many people brave or motivated enough to stand up to him."
She offers a small smile. "I hope you are one of those people."
Adriel's eyes darken for a moment, "Oh, I'm motivated enough." She replies, her voice deepening with sincerity.
Adriel stands and makes towards the door, turning back at the last minute, realising that she is rushing something so important.
Do not mess this up out of haste Adriel. You cannot put Teodore's life in danger.
"If you know this much about his whereabouts, then you can tell me what I'll find if I go there tonight. Who will be there and is there an alternate entrance I can use if needed?"
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"Not much..." Zellara says, her smile fading. "But I can draw upon my Harrow deck. It may reveal something that will aid you." She shuffles her cards with an expert hand. "Might I see your card?" She asks, "Oh yes. The uprising. It is a card of strength, be that mental, physical or moral. Let us see what the cards will show us."
She deals three rows of three cards and turns over the top row. "The first row represents the past, that which has come before." She flips them over one-by-one, revealing The Empty Throne, The Forge, and the Mute Hag. Zellara frowns. "The Empty Throne in true alignment. A loss has been suffered, but that loss brings good fortune, in time. The Forge and the Mute Hag... dark secrets swirl around, a great diversity which brings strength - for better or worse. Bargains made and sealed in the blood of the innocent."
She flips the second row. “The second row represents the present, that which is happening now." The Tangled Briar, The Uprising, and The Waxworks stare up from the table. She points to the first one. "The Tangled Briar suggests that an ancient evil is returning and we must all tread carefully to avoid its wrath. The Uprising, your card Adriel, located in the center of the array, this is a strong omen. You will be at the center of things to come. Finally, the Waxworks, helplessness and entropy. These are the forces that Gaedren Lamm spreads, the ones we hope to end."
“The third row represents the future, that which is yet to come.” Zellara reveals the final row: The Paladin, The Foreign Trader, and The Beating. "The Paladin tells us that we must stand firm in the face of adversity, the future will be dark but there is hope in courage. The Foreign Trader suggests a stranger who will offer vital information in the future, but beware their price - whatever it might be. And finally the Beating. Someone, or something, will come under attack from all sides." Zellara frowns. "Not the most encouraging spread, but there is a way forward I believe."
She shuffles the cards away once more and looks Adriel in the eye. "The only other help I can give you is this. Lamm keeps a pet crocodile and I believe that it lives in his office - which must be at, or below, the waterline. Now, best of luck to you Adriel. Bring your son safely home."
You receive 3 Harrow Points for this first adventure. The number of Harrow points is equal to the number of the adventure's related suit (Keys) showed up in the spread, plus 1 more for the card you chose. You gain a bonus point because your chosen card appeared in the spread.
The PCs can spend Harrow Points as a free action. As long as a PC has enough points, there is no limit to how many points she can spend in a round. Also, the specific cards from the Choosing play additional roles in each chapter. The extra boon granted by each of these cards automatically activates for the PC whose player drew it once the indicated encounter begins and lasts for the duration of that encounter.
In “Edge of Anarchy,” the PCs are faced with numerous situations where they need to be quick on their feet or skilled with their hands. During this chapter, a character can spend his Harrow Points in the following ways.
Dexterity Rerolls: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to reroll an initiative check, Reflex save, attack roll modified by Dexterity, or Dexterity-based check. The PC must abide by the new result (although if he has additional Harrow Points, he can use them for additional rerolls).
Dodge Bonus: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to gain a +1 dodge bonus to his Armor Class for one encounter. He can spend up to 3 Harrow Points per encounter to increase his Armor Class in this manner.
Speed Increase: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to increase his base speed by 10 feet for one encounter.
Adriel has never heard a harrowing in person before and had never sought one out for herself. Not knowing what to expect she listens and watches very closely, being drawn into the spectacle. She finds herself holding her breath in anticipation for the cards to come.
Good fortune in time. Strength. Courage. She says its not encouraging but...there is hope to be found. I must remember there is hope to be found.
To Adriel, its as if any of the misfortune fortold was not spoken of.
"With thanks Zellara, I will look to the brightness in my path as I have done for these last few months to keep going. If you do not see me again, you know what our vengeance has failed."
With no other words, Adriel opens the door with purpose to the blustery night and heads in the direction of the Westpier 17 with one small pit stop in a dark alley to change into her usual nightly attire.
Adriel heads north from Zellara's house, and it doesn't take long to reach Westpier 17. The old fishery is a creaking, decrepit building. 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 reek of brine and the stink of week-dead fish hang thickly in the air here. The old double doors in the side of the 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.
To the west, 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.
A slippery boardwalk clings to the east 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.
The woman standing at the edge of the rickety boardwalk is no longer a young woman with smooth skin, an empty smile and eyes full of sorrow but a silent slender figure cloaked in midnight black with nothing else to give away their identity. She had heard speak of a new reckless hero's deeds known as the Hummingbird in the local news pamphlets and, enjoying the renown, she has assumed the title.
It makes it easier to remove one's true identity from a situation for both others and oneself.
The Hummingbird watches the property for a few moments spying out any movement that she might see that she should be cautious of.
Seeing nothing of note, she decides to scout the perimeter and takes a few steps onto the boardwalk, watching her feet as she goes.
In the evening's darkness the old fishery is locked up tight and the Hummingbird cannot see any sign of movement although the boarded windows mean her view is less than comprehensive.
The boardwalk is very slippery and clings to the side of fishery, held together by barnacle-encrusted pilings that have had half of their thickness worn away at the level of the water twelve feet below. A single door stands in the building's wall but a gentle test proves that it is securely locked.
As the walkway reaches the corner of the building it begins to slope downwards on the far side of the building, dropping down to nestle against a decrepit boat which is 'docked' on the far side. Given the amount of timber stretching between the boat and the building it is clear that this particular vessel will never sail again - at least not without taking the building with it.
Ignoring the land-bound vessel, she turns her attention back to the locked door and listens carefully, trying to spot any sounds of movement or life within.
The door doesn't yield to the Hummingbird's first attempt but a little more work convinces it to open.
Opening the door softly the Hummingbird finds herself in a cramped office. A wooden desk sits in one corner, it's side preventing a door behind it from opening all the way. The table is heaped with dozens of slate boards covered in chalk scrawls, while a cabinet slouches against the opposite wall. It proves to hold nothing more than an empty bottle which once held cheap brandy and some old orders in the same scrawled handwriting that predominates on the boards.
Otherwise there is nothing else of interest in the room, apart from the two exits - the partially blocked one at the back of the room and an unobstructed one near where the Hummingbird entered.
The Hummingbird takes a glance at the chalk scrawls trying to decipher them and any clues it may give her about the operations of this place. She is still not entirely sure this is Lamm's hideout.
Edging quietly to the unobstructed exit, she takes a listen and then a peak before deciding if she wants to enter the next room of the shack. She makes a note of the partially obstructed exit for later, but decides to leave it until she has at least ensured her own safety.
The floor in this large, high ceilinged room is slick with river water, bits of seaweed, and fish blood, and the air is thick with the accompanying scents. Wooden catwalks to the north and south allow access between the western part of the fishery and the floor of the room, which is ten feet lower. A wide opening in the floor to the south allows direct access to the sloppy, muddy water of the Jeggare River a further three feet down, while to the northwest stands an immense eightfoot-tall wooden vat, its sides caked and waterproofed with tar. Inside is a foul-looking mixture of chum, river water, and who knows what else. To the east are stacked many barrels and crates, each with a fish painted on it. Over a dozen small hammocks hang from under the catwalks, each with its own ratty blanket and pillow.
Soft sighs and snores tell of life in this room and the pitch, as well as the size of the hammocks, suggests that the Hummingbird has found Lamm's Lambs - the orphans and other children he 'conscripts' into working as thieves, pickpockets and workers.
On the lower level a bobbing light shows the presence of someone with a lantern...
The Hummingbird catches her breath, stopping herself gasping out at the sorry sight before her. She knows one of these children might be her son, but these children are all someone's child and she needs to help them all.
How dare such a monster do this to these children for his own benefit. They all deserve a loving embrace and stability.
Trying to be as quiet as she can and sticking to the shadows out of the light, she takes down her hood and slowly creeps around the room, trying to catch a glimpse to see if any of them might be Teodore.
Keeping herself pressed to the walls the Hummingbird works her way down the walkway towards the staircase. Unfortunately, without actually looking into the hammocks and likely waking their occupants there is no way to check who is sleeping inside each one.
The light below continues to swing gently. The Hummingbird is safe yet...
In a matter of seconds, a thousand plans race through The Hummingbird's head but none of them seem worthy.
I need to see if Teo is here. I can't just leave him or cause a raucous in case they all flee in terror. I could wake a child up carefully and ask them, to remain quiet, but they might call for the guard. I could take out the guard first in case I don't do it quiet enough. There is no good solution.
She makes her way down the staircase as quietly as she can, wanting to silence the guard below.
The Hummingbird moves quietly down the steps, one of which creaks under her foot! Fortunately her target, a large orc sitting on a battered chair on the level below chooses that moment to let out a huge yawn - covering her misstep!
With a quiet vault over the bannister the Hummingbird makes her way into range and cuts deep into the orc's back! He lets out a startled roar and swings round, grabbing a morningstar from his belt as he does so.
"Wots this? A little rat!" He says gleefully. "Gonna gut you like the fish!"
"You deserve everything you get from me." She hisses, her voice oozing malice.
The second cut the Hummingbird leaves seems simply excite the orc rather than anything and he licks his own blood from his face, before swinging the morningstar in a wide arc!
It connects with a nasty thud and something goes crack in the Hummingbird's chest.
Letting out a muffled cry, she follows up with a snarl and lunges again but in her pain, doesn't move quickly enough.
The orc lands another blow, backhanded this time, and giggles in delight at the pain he's causing.
Not willing to give up ground after everything now, she tries yet again with desperation.
Desperation and pain lend the Hummingbird both speed and strength and she thrusts her rapier through the orc's open mouth, cutting off his final giggle permenantly.
The orc collapses like a boneless puppet and over the sound of her own heavy breathing the Hummingbird can make out quiet whispers above - the children are clearly trying not to make too much noise...
Letting out a loose breath, The Hummingbird looks around towards the children's whispers and lowers her hood to reveal her more kindly face ensure she does not seem too menacing, especially now she is splattered in blood.
Not wanting to risk putting the rapier away, she quielty calls towards the children. "He's gone, you're safe. You're all safe. What else can you all tell me....quietly now. We don't want anyone to hear us."
She glugs down one of the potions she quickly identifies whilst waiting for them to get up their courage to come speak to her.
"Not yet miss," One quiet voice calls down. "There's Hookshanks and 'is 'orrible dog miss! It's a right foul beast. You gotta get rid of it!"
"Okay. Point it out for me. Which way do I need to go for this dog? Then, all of you go back in your room and barricade the door. Don't open it again until I say." She replies, knowing she needs to finish the job. When the kids don't move and simply gawk at her, she adds; "Go on, Go now. I won't be long."
She lifts her hood back up and refocuses her grip on her blade and continues.
She has to stop herself from shouting out Teo's name.
Leave that for later. Make it safe first. You're so close now.
Folllowing the children's pointing fingers the Hummingbird moves back upstairs and through a short hallway. Easing the door open at the end she is greeted by a growling canine with mangy fur just in the process of standing up!
Knowing there is nothing she can do to save the dog trained to protect its territory in front of her, she lunges for the canine.
The Hummingbird slays the dog with a single precise blow, ending its miserable existence and freeing the Lambs from their most feared tormentor!
This room is clearly not often used. The single table and chair are both dusty and aside from the ratty dog bed beneath it there is nothing else of interest in the room. Barred double doors obviously lead outside while doors to the left and right offer further mean of egress beyond returning back the way the Hummingbird came.
The Hummingbird takes a moment to flip a mental coin and pads quietly towards the left door.
She eases the door open to the sound of snores. An unpleasant looking man with blonde hair slicked back along his scalp is curled up in the only single bed in this room.
The Hummingbird grips her sword, having second thoughts of her utter ruthlessness.
No. All adults in this place are culpable for the treatment of these children.
She takes an uncertain stride forward before taking two more certain strides in quick succession and slitting the man's throat.
The man dies soundlessly, his lifeblood flowing swiftly out to soak the filthy mattress. The small pile of possessions next to his bed contains a wand of some sort of the kind that spellcasters use, three vials of acid, a thunderstone; some dirty leather armor, a dagger, a light, a garnet amulet (worth 100 gp) and two keys, one brass and one iron.
The brass key proves to fit the front door lock when the Hummingbird returns to the front office to try it, but the iron key serves no obvious purpose thus far...
Moving on the Hummingbird heads for the other door and opens it with equal stealth.
The stink in the room beyond, a mixture of fish and sweat, is enough to make the eyes water. To the east, a large wooden trough holds a hideous mound of half-rancid fish, seaweed, and brine. Filthy river water and fish blood stain the floor around this trough. A pair of wooden chutes lead from this trough through holes in the eastern wall into a larger room beyond. To the west, a desk and chair sit in one corner while a tall cabinet sits in the other.
Five small figures are around the trough, prodding at the dubious looking liquid with sticks.
Crocodile? Alligator? What was the warning again?
She desperately tries to stop herself from identifying the children in front of her, knowing that her priorities must lie elsewhere. She needs to get them away from whatever they're trying to aggravate.
Teodore. Maybe? If they would just look this way. Her heart skips a beat, before drawing their attention.
"Kids. Get outta here. Go back to your bunk room where the others are safe. Go. Now. The dog and the idiot bodyguard are dead. Go now. She says, trying to be soft but stern nonetheless.
"Intruder!" One of the kids yells, "Get 'em kids, else I feeds ya to the dog!"
When the 'child' pulls a nasty curved knife the Hummingbird realises that it is not a child at all, but a gnome and a nasty one at that! The remaining four, who actually are children, all pull their long poles from the water and level them at the Hummingbird, although none of them seem that keen to actually fight her!
"Didn't you hear? The dog is dead. Kids don't listen to him and get the hell out of here. You do not belong to these monsters!"
She steps decisively towards the gnome.
"You however do not deserve my mercy. These kids are not yours to harm."
The gnome seems so surprised that anyone would talk back to him that the Hummingbird is able to open a wound on his leg before he reacts.
"Why you little-" He doesn't get any further because one of the kids scoops a handful of stinking slush from the trough and hurls it, with remarkable accuracy, into the gnome's face! He yells and splutters while the kids scatter in all directions.
The gnome manages to wipe his face clear but any chance of striking back at the Hummingbird has been ruined.
As much as the Hummingbird appreciates the help from the kids, she wants them out of harms way and not to have to witness any more horrors than they have already. "Thanks Kids. Now get safe - up to the bunk room with the others. GO"
The Hummingbird neatly opens a matching wound on the gnome's arm as he continues to splutter and the kids do as she says, fleeing through a back door into the larger room beyond.
"Gonna gut you like a fish!" The gnome declares, lashing out with his curved knife.
After a few more seconds of flashing blades the Hummingbird fells the gnome, suffering no more than a minor cut in the process.
With the gnome dead the Hummingbird has the time to pick her way into the locked cabinet which proves to contain twelve gold pieces in mixed silver and copper.
As she works a cautious head pokes itself round the doorway into the larger room and gasps when it sees the gnome dead.
"'ave you killed them all Miss?" The boy asks, revealing himself to be the same one that blinded the gnome with a forkful of fish-guts. "And the dog? Really?"
Adriel's heart leaps into her throat for a moment when she realises what she has done with so many vulnerable children in the vicinity.
She clears her throat, "Yes, you're all free of the clutches of these men. You're all safe." She looks at the young boy and sighs at the sight of his unkempt appearance, and thin frame.
"Could....do you think I could come check on you all in your living space? I...I'm looking for someone who I think might be here...maybe you've heard of him?" The Hummingbird straightens up from her crouched position by the cabinet and sheaths her weapon taking a few cautious strides towards the boy awaiting for an answer, trying not to see to impatient as if to scare him off. Don't risk losing it all now Adriel.
The boy shakes his head.
"Sorry miss. Teo went down below couple'a days ago. Didn't see him since. You can come look if you want but..." He trails off.
"This way."
The boy leads the Hummingbird back into the main room and onto the upper-walkway. The kid's 'living space' is little more than a space between the floors, riddled with damp and a few ratty blankets. Apart from the six frightened children cowering there there is nothing of significance.
"Old man Lamm lives downstairs, miss." The older boy says. "They knocks on the floor in the office if they want 'im. Don't know how 'e gets up 'n down though."
The Hummingbird does though. The slippery walkway around the outside of the building sloped sharply downwards, suggesting a lower level.
He is fine. You can do this. He will be alive, he will be breathing, you can save him.
"Okay. Thank you all. You stay safe together and I'll make sure Gaedran doesn't hurt you anymore. You're all okay. I'll make sure of that."
The Hummingbird pulls her hood back up, draws her weapon and heads back to the slippery walkway, minding her step and ensuring she is silent in the night.
"Miss." The boy adds as the Hummingbird is leaving. "Hookshanks kept some money in a locked box in tha' other room. If ye find the key ye should take it."
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The wood of the pier creaks alarmingly even before the Hummingbird steps on it and bends around the building until it reaches what remains of a once proud boat. 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.
Venturing inside the Hummingbird finds herself confronted by three scuttling spiders who nip at her boots. Fortunately they aren't particularly large and some ferocious stomping deals with them in short order although the groans of the ships timbers suggest that it can't take much more punishment.
It takes a few minutes of cautious searching before the Hummingbird finds a secret door in the boats hold which leads out onto a narrow, built-over walkway back into the building. Her spine tingles in anticipation - vengeance is close!
The Hummingbird swigs another one of the potions she found earlier before testing the door as quietly as she can. Finding it unlocked, she opens it a slither, aiming to peer through and glimpse the other side.
The air in this large room is chilly and stinks of the river, thanks to a huge opening in the floor that drops away to the river shore three feet below. Several pilings emerge from the waters to support the roof eight feet above the floor, with mossy ropes slung between them. In two places, rusty manacles hang from the ropes over the water. Two five-foot-wide walkways cross the hole to the other side of the chamber, where a collection of old cabinets, lockboxes, and piles of clutter are strewn about. Chipped porcelain plates, a cracked goblet, badly rusted silverware, an old wooden shield with a crossbow bolt embedded in it, the odd dinged helm, and other “treasures” litter the floor of this side of the chamber. Three tables heaped with clutter stand amid this mess. In the southwest corner, a wooden door provides access to a walled-off section.
Gaedren Lamm is bent over one of the tables as the Hummingbird opens the door but the old man is remarkably sharp - likely the reason he has achieved old age in the first place, and he swings around before the Hummingbird can do much more than get a look at the room.
"I'll serve you like I served the other b**ch!" He yells, reaching for a small crossbow.
He grabs the weapon and then fires, no at the Hummingbird, but into the water in the center of the room.
"Come on Gobblegut you stupid mutt!"
Something thrashes in the water, obviously hurt by the bolt.
Gobble 16/22
"Who the hell are you talking about?" She yells, but doesn't hold back.
Lamm ducks and the shield hanging on the wall suddenly has a second arrow in it.
"The pretty one with the black hair!" Gaedren yells, reloading his crossbow. "Wanted to know about her son. Said she'd expose me. Silly b**ch. Just like you!"
His bolt goes flying into the water, to no avail.
"On that note, what the hell did you do with my son. Teodore. You better remember the name." She yells, threateningly.