GM Harrow’s Curse of the Crimson Throne - AE

Game Master GM Harrow

Gathering all the rescued captives who can walk, the group makes their way back to the surface via the cargo lift, a few people at a time. It seems that by now the bodies have been discovered, for the upper level of the so-called hospice is in an uproar, with Gray Maidens posted at the entrance and throughout the former warehouse.

Shane is wearing the frightening hood of a doctor now, but tries to ease the worries of others quietly if it causes alarm.

"Hells. I think we can talk our way out of this if we do it right, but if we scarper, they're not going to leave anything behind for us to find. If we're giving the leech's chambers a good once over, it's got to be now."

"I had thought that Arkminos might have taken it with him, but on the off chance he didn't, it does feel like we should look into it. I just wish there were a way we could get that overstuffed armchair that looks several hundred years old out of here unnoticed and in a speedy fashion."

"Ah, and so Shane's true nature reveals itself. He is a hedonist," Audria says, coping with the appearance of more Gray Maidens with a bit of silly humor. "Whether or not we go poking around, I think it's best if I get out of this disguise. I don't see us being able to talk our way out if I'm wearing a suit of their armor with no good reason in their eyes."

"Hells. I think we can talk our way out of this if we do it right, but if we scarper, they're not going to leave anything behind for us to find. If we're giving the leech's chambers a good once over, it's got to be now."

"Whether or not we go poking around, I think it's best if I get out of this disguise. I don't see us being able to talk our way out if I'm wearing a suit of their armor with no good reason in their eyes."

"Good. I think they should see something else." Shrike takes one look from behind the elevator room door at the new cockscombs that have arrived at the "hospice," and turns around to go back down the lift. She does not head for the vampire's chamber, however; instead she makes her way through the skeleton-festooned entryway, the macabre display hall, up the stairs to the catwalks, past the imprisoned monster, down the long corridor, and finally to the grisly heart of Urgathoa's shrine room.

Once there, she takes out her length of silk rope, loops it under the great clawed arms of the large half-woman half-monster's corpse, wraps it around her own waist twice and her hands once, and begins grimly dragging the dead monstrosity back the way she came. Up the long corridor, past the green fluid jars, down the stairs from the catwalks, through the display chamber, and finally out the double doors and into the lift itself. Along the way she pauses at the cultists' sleeping chamber to take their black satin bedding. Shane can surely clean and mend it later, and Majenko and his kin will be happy. Someone should have some good out of what transpired here.

On reflection, she takes Rolth Lamm's body from the display room too, dragging him by the collar as before. His rancid soul will not ever return to this body to threaten the living, even if she has to burn it and scatter the ashes in the salt sea herself.

Her prizes in hand, Shrike steps into the lift with them and throws the lever to ascend.

"Oh, oh, burn it. Murder Bird - wait a drip! Don't start the lift now, yeah? We still want to make sure there's nothing left behind for them in the leech's lair? Getting back down after the 'rightful authorities' have shown might be even harder the second time, and for much less reward."

The mask tilts at Pava, then at the contents of the lift, then at the rooms beyond.

Shrike pulls the lever again to stop the slow and grinding progress of the elevator in a silence that somehow has the quality of a put-upon sigh. She hops out to do a final sweep of what should be taken from here — or destroyed — before the authorities or the Queen's pet cultists can take it and perhaps use it again.

"Cauldrons," she croaks after a while. "We should spoil them."

Edited to take into account previous couple of posts.

The last bits to take care of in the underground cultist lair are the huge vats of concentrated plague and canvassing the vampire's secret room. Arkminos has departed, so the space he vacated can be explored freely. In the secret room, several open trunks spill piles of books across the dusty floor. Stacks of tomes, some apparently quite old, stand in orderly stacks and haphazard heaps, surrounding nearly every foot of floor space except for that occupied by an elegant black-canopied bed. An outline on the floor marks where a chest or trunk has stood until very recently.

it will take 20 castings of purify food and drink (or 2 minutes of repeated applications of the spell) to neutralize the contents of a single vat. A single remove disease spell cast on a vat immediately negates the infection (provided the caster succeeds at the required DC 24 caster level check).

Loot: The complete collection of books has a total value of 1500 gp, although many have rotted bindings and weak glue, causing them to deteriorate if handled with anything less than extreme delicacy.

The ruckus at the hospice has attracted the attention of the guard, and as Shrike emerges from the lift with its grisly cargo, she sees none other that Field Marshal Cressida Kroft pushing past a couple of disagreeing Gray Maidens, a whole squad of Korvosan Guards behind her.

She takes in the rows upon rows of sick beds, the heavy security, the notable absence of Queen's Physicians or any medical personnel. "I thought this was a place of healing," she says, her even voice carrying through the cavernous space. "Yet I get reports of..." She trails off as her gaze lands on the group exiting the lift.

This is not intended to be a combat encounter, although of course you can start a fight if you like. :D

Having discarded the physician's mask and robes, Elric is back in armor when he enters the lift.

As soon as he spots Field Marshal Kroft, he strides forward and addresses her in a low voice.

"Marshal, we have uncovered some disturbing evidence. I think you need to see what lies beneath this complex, and then I'd suggest we arrange for a private debriefing as soon as possible. If Commander Endrin can attend, that would be good, but it is important that we keep the circle close on this," he says, casting a glance at the Grey Maidens guarding the door.

"Ah, and so Shane's true nature reveals itself. He is a hedonist," Audria says, coping with the appearance of more Gray Maidens with a bit of silly humor. "Whether or not we go poking around, I think it's best if I get out of this disguise. I don't see us being able to talk our way out if I'm wearing a suit of their armor with no good reason in their eyes."

Shane chuckles at that, "Why do you think I fought so hard for real estate?"

Stacks of tomes, some apparently quite old, stand in orderly stacks and haphazard heaps, surrounding nearly every foot of floor space except for that occupied by an elegant black-canopied bed

His hands glide over the books oh so carefully, and he will load up on what he can of the books of greatest rarity and interest to him. It's not so much the money they could bring but the history they represent, the knowledge they can grant. "Careful, careful some of these will crumble if not held with care. What a collection. I don't know if our little house will have room for it all...but we'll find a way."

When he comes out of this libram induced delirium, he mutters to the others "If we can meet with the Marshal later, our priority should be getting the notes for the cure all together, and working with the various clergy and Abella to find a cure. I have to focus on that. Do you all want me to just turn us all invisible and slip out of here now or just go invisible myself while i get to work?"

"It's true!" Pava says, too loudly for how close they are to Kroft. "The Queen's Physicians, maybe even the Gray Maidens themselves were infiltrated by a cult devoted to spreading the Blood Veil! Vampires, worshipers of the Pallid Princess, a Nidalese poxsmith - all lurking beneath their very noses! How fortunate for the Queen that brave heroes rooted out this nest of vermin before they could claim yet more lives!"

Bluff: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (8) + 13 = 21

"Not as though they don't know what we found, yeah?"

On the way up the lift, Shrike fishes several small objects out of the magic haversack and wraps them together in a weapon rag, which she tucks into her sash. At the top, she leaves Lamm's body in the lift for now, and drags the only the giant, clawed, woman-like undead forward by the rope. She moves slowly but steadily through the crowded rows of sufferers' cots, right up to Kroft and the protesting Gray Maidens, where she drops the rope, takes out the small bundle from her sash, and opens it, the huge black eyes of the mask locked directly on the nearest Gray Maiden's faceless helm.

Palm-size silver symbols plink down onto monstrous corpse and bounce to the floor, one after another. The final one, larger and carved of pure onyx, she casually tosses down by hand onto the little pile formed by the others. All of them are the same: the spread-winged death's head fly of Urgathoa.

In the silence, her normal flat croak sounds too loud. "This is what they were protecting." The words are for Kroft, but her mask's unblinking stare is for the Gray Maidens alone.

Audria smiles as Shane plays along, but it fades as she gets out of the Gray Maiden's armor and back into her own clothing in as private of a place as she can manage. Her hair grows a few inches, but she manages to keep her composure well enough that nothing more dramatic happens. Once changed, she bundles up the armor and want nothing more than to curl up and sleep for a few days, but the arrival of the guard and Field Marshal Kroft along with the others' return from below mean that she can't rest yet. With a very frazzled Tally on her shoulder and her holy symbol prominently displayed on her breast, she holds her glaive in one hand as she joins the others.

"Now would be a good time for cooperation, don't you think," the haggard young paladin asks the Gray Maidens. "Unless you wish to be tarred with the same brush as those who were hear seeking to spread this plague, then by all means, keep bickering with the Field Marshal like some cur growling over a bone."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21

Gasps and shouts ring out in the sudden hush as the monstruous corpse of Urgathoa's Daughter is brought out. Even Kroft cannot suppress a sharp intake of breath and half a step backwards as the guards murmur around her.

"what in all hells..." "this thing was below?!" "merciful gods!"

The Gray Maidens turn their heads stiffly, seeking something or someone, but without leadership giving them clear orders they soon back down and allow the Korvosan Guard to enter the hospice.

The Field Marshal schools her face back into a neutral expression, wrenching her gaze away from Andaisin's mutated body. "A full investigation will take place to ascertain what has happened and how were cultists of Urgathoa able to operate here. Until then, please refrain from spreading rumours and accusations. The situation is bad enough as it is." She signals to her guardsmen, ordering a few to return to the Citadel for additional resources, while half the squad begins to head towards the cargo lift, stepping gingerly around the corpses.

Reminder that you have several sets of notes about the plague. What do you intend to do with them? Researching a cure requires a Craft Alchemy check.

Pretty much what Shane was talking about when he said ' our priority should be getting the notes for the cure all together, and working with the various clergy and Abella to find a cure. I have to focus on that.' earlier :)

Shane wastes little time, and informs the rest of the party "My plan is thus, I scribe copies of these notes, pass a copy to each of the major temples in the city, and work with Kandru if she wishes, Abella if she'll tolerate me, Jessica probably, and others to concoct a better cure or at least inoculation. Unless you folks insist, I'm going to start on that right now. This head band gives me more alchemical knowledge than I ever possessed in my life before and with the help of trained healers I think it can be done." Unless someone brings up a good counter argument, or improvement, he plans to head off to start doing just that.

Pava nods seriously. "Sounds a plan then, Acadamae. Remember, if something or someone comes after you, ghost and run, yeah? No heroics."

"I can take the copies to the temples, Jessica, and Abella. I'm sure she'll work with you on this, Shane. She doesn't strike me as a petty person. I think Tally's going to be staying with you for a while, though. That last fight took a lot out of her," Audria replies quietly, looking at the even more haggard looking thrush perched on her shoulder.

Audria will act as a runner since she can't help with the notes. Tally's down to her last 3 HP, so she's going to be spending a lot of time staying out of the way and sleeping.

Pava nods seriously. "Sounds a plan then, Acadamae. Remember, if something or someone comes after you, ghost and run, yeah? No heroics."

Shane nods to Pava, "Oh, rest assured, I have escaped the heroism that seems to overwhelm the rest of you at the most inconvenient times."

"I can take the copies to the temples, Jessica, and Abella. I'm sure she'll work with you on this, Shane. She doesn't strike me as a petty person. I think Tally's going to be staying with you for a while, though. That last fight took a lot out of her," Audria replies quietly, looking at the even more haggard looking thrush perched on her shoulder.

A relieved look, "That could be invaluable. Thank you."

”Good to hear, Shane. You should get to work as soon as possible. I would prefer that you had someone with you as protection at all times, and I don’t like the idea of Audria carrying the notes alone through the city on foot.

I have another suggestion. Galewing is strong enough to carry me now, so we can fly a copy of the notes and cure to one of the temples while you work on the next one. It will be faster and someone is a lot less likely to attack a Sable Company Marine in plain view. That means that the rest of you can stay as guards, unless you have other pressing tasks.”

I imagine Shrike will want to escort Ruan home.

The Gray Maidens turn their heads stiffly, seeking something or someone, but without leadership giving them clear orders they soon back down and allow the Korvosan Guard to enter the hospice.

The Field Marshal schools her face back into a neutral expression, wrenching her gaze away from Andaisin's mutated body. "A full investigation will take place to ascertain what has happened and how were cultists of Urgathoa able to operate here. Until then, please refrain from spreading rumours and accusations. The situation is bad enough as it is."

Shrike says nothing further, but remains utterly still, staring down the Queen's agents, until they back off and allow the Korvosan Guard to spread through the building and take control of the situation.

When they do, she draws a deep, silent breath, thankful for it as only a newly eradicated cough can make a person. To Kroft she croaks, slightly raspier than usual, "Whatever you thought from the message, it's worse. Take a mask." They cannot allow their one real ally in the city government to fall ill too, from just walking around in this tainted place. She already knows Kroft doesn't sleep enough.

Shrike listens to the others talk the plan through and has only two things to add. "Need to get these people help soonest. And Krand and Hanch." The tilt of her head encompasses the plague victims around them and the second floor where the hostler and cobbler wait for aid. "Leech's books might be important. Should crate them up and take them to Shane. Armor too. They get nothing back."

She nods to Elric. "I'll take watch later. Got to do something first." When all that needs to be said has been said, she makes a beeline for Ruan Mirukova and chivvies him out of the warehouse like a sheepdog with a single sheep, unwilling to let him out of her sight even for the usually safe journey to his home.

Work is on fire again, so only swooping in to roll for Jessica.

Craft Alchemy, DC 20: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (15) + 13 = 28
Craft Alchemy, DC 20: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (16) + 13 = 29

Jessica L'Morie spends the night and most of the following day poring over the various notes copied by Shane and Pava and experimenting with some of the materials retrieved from the hospice.

In the morning, looking exhausted but triumphant, she presents one sheet of parchment and a vial filled with a milky orange liquid to the assembled group. "Here. This is the first dose of the cure - experimental, mind you! -and these are the instructions on how to make it. It's not easy, and it requires some rather expensive ingredients, but I'm fairly certain it will work."

She gingerly sets the vial back into its cloth-lined box. "I also discovered something veeeery interesting while I was researching this. Did you know this plague has a supernatural aspect? It was very difficult to trace the original strain amongst all the mutations and tampering, and once I did I had to re-check three times to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. But it's there, a spirit essence that infuses the disease; paradoxically, it's not part of it, but actively fights it. I think that's why some people are immune to it, and I think this will also help us cure people faster."

Ok, and a bit of exposition. :P

”Good to hear, Shane. You should get to work as soon as possible. I would prefer that you had someone with you as protection at all times, and I don’t like the idea of Audria carrying the notes alone through the city on foot.

I have another suggestion. Galewing is strong enough to carry me now, so we can fly a copy of the notes and cure to one of the temples while you work on the next one. It will be faster and someone is a lot less likely to attack a Sable Company Marine in plain view. That means that the rest of you can stay as guards, unless you have other pressing tasks.

"Thank you, Elric, and thank Galewing for me. As for a guard, I don't think one will be needed but I won't say no. A certain House Drake might also be willing to help us, though I may have to get him some of his favorite foods to pay him."

Shrike listens to the others talk the plan through and has only two things to add. "Need to get these people help soonest. And Krand and Hanch." The tilt of her head encompasses the plague victims around them and the second floor where the hostler and cobbler wait for aid. "Leech's books might be important. Should crate them up and take them to Shane. Armor too. They get nothing back."

A grateful look at that.

In the morning, looking exhausted but triumphant, she presents one sheet of parchment and a vial filled with a milky orange liquid to the assembled group. "Here. This is the first dose of the cure - experimental, mind you! -and these are the instructions on how to make it. It's not easy, and it requires some rather expensive ingredients, but I'm fairly certain it will work."

She gingerly sets the vial back into its cloth-lined box. "I also discovered something veeeery interesting while I was researching this. Did you know this plague has a supernatural aspect? It was very difficult to trace the original strain amongst all the mutations and tampering, and once I did I had to re-check three times to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. But it's there, a spirit essence that infuses the disease; paradoxically, it's not part of it, but actively fights it. I think that's why some people are immune to it, and I think this will also help us cure people faster."

Shane looks very tired , and if folks count the hours since the notes were first found they might realize he's forgone a LOT of sleep in his endeavors. He looks more ragged than usual but like Jessica, he looks triumphant. Its possible copies were made of Jessica's instructions as well.

He nods at Jessica's last words, "I looked into that a bit, the books retrieved gave a few hints as well. In 4644 AR, a man named Vorel Foxglove sought the state of lichdom, however his wife, Kasanda Miromia-Foxglove, disrupted his final ritual and foiled it. Kasanda was Varisian, and it may well be her spirit that's been fighting blood veil in a small number of Varisians over the city. Her spirit has been their watchman, or so I hypothesize."

As the group splits up to begin work on the cure, Kandru tries to follow Audria's lead - she understands enough of the theory behind the healer's art to function, but nowhere near the levels needed to help craft the antidote to the plague, so for the remainder of the day, she finds another way to make herself useful.

While the scholars work, she tries to remain helpful as best she can, working with the more bureaucratically minded of the temple staff to create a system to efficiently distribute the antidote once found. The actual antidote itself can be safely ignored for the time being - rather, Kandru spends the day trying to make sure that places where citizens can get the cure are roughly evenly distributed, that those responsible for distributing the antidote won't be overwhelmed by the crowds of the sick, et cetera. The problem of how to produce the antidote is significantly more challenging, given that Kandru does not in fact know what ingredients they will require, but she sets that aside as a problem for once the cure has been found and its ingredients listed.

In the morning, looking exhausted but triumphant, she presents one sheet of parchment and a vial filled with a milky orange liquid to the assembled group. "Here. This is the first dose of the cure - experimental, mind you! -and these are the instructions on how to make it. It's not easy, and it requires some rather expensive ingredients, but I'm fairly certain it will work."

She gingerly sets the vial back into its cloth-lined box. "I also discovered something veeeery interesting while I was researching this. Did you know this plague has a supernatural aspect? It was very difficult to trace the original strain amongst all the mutations and tampering, and once I did I had to re-check three times to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. But it's there, a spirit essence that infuses the disease; paradoxically, it's not part of it, but actively fights it. I think that's why some people are immune to it, and I think this will also help us cure people faster."

Kandru nods attentively as the alchemist presents the list of ingredients and steps for production. "I'm no alchemist, but might I have a copy of this list? With how many copies of the cure must be produced in a short amount of time, it's imperative that we have some sort of logistical system in place - I've been working on a means to distribute the cure once found, but I'll need that list to continue my work on procuring the reagents and getting them to the alchemists."

Audria's too tired to argue with Elric and keeps watch over Shane and Jessica as they work on a cure. No scribe herself and certainly no alchemist, she finds that she can't do much to aid directly, but she has been slowly working on her cooking skills and can at least make sure the pair of them are working well-fed and supplied with drinks that help maintain focus and provide a bit of energy.

Taking 10 for a 19 on the Profession(Cook) check if it matters.

Once the notes are copied and a cure discovered, she says a prayer over Elric and anyone else acting as a runner before they leave. By the end of the ordeal, while Jessica and Shane are sharing some historical context, Audria and Tally are passed out in a chair in the corner.

Remainder of Fireday, 3 Erastus, 4708
Shrike accompanies Ruan Mirukova like a silent shadow to his apartment in Ridgefield, which he shares with his sister and now Ivy Rath. She does not ask him for his direction first. At his home — a suite comprising the second floor of a handsome townhouse, distinguished by a large and colorful stained-glass window of a songbird and a butterfly in flight that lets the light into their parlor — she pauses. "Don't go anywhere. Your sister will be here soon." The impassive mask considers him for a long moment, as though she would say something else, but in the end she turns away. "Swift steps till next we meet, Ruan."

It has been over twenty-four hours since Deyanira came to see her yesterday morning. They had entered the cursed hospice in the hour after dawn today, and it is still barely afternoon, but it feels like a lifetime has passed. The wind has picked up, bringing dark clouds scudding in from the ocean. She has not been back to her home since yesterday morning either: she had passed the night taking watches over the knocked-out prisoners in the abandoned warehouse. At some point they will have to deal with those five too.

She wants nothing more than to go home and fall into bed, preceded and followed by eating at least five of Junie's extremely solid oat and cinnamon scones. For now, Shrike settles for taking care to ensure she is not followed to Crescent Street. She leaves a folded note there on the mat by the kitchen door, knocking to be sure it is received before hurrying away.

Less than five minutes later, when Deyanira rushes out the door with her unbound hair flying in the gusting wind and bolts down the street to Ridgefield, Shrike follows her all the way there, an unseen guardian from above.

***

What if anything can Shrike do to get some external healers in to see those 62 people in the hospice, GM? She will do that at this time, then return to the Hospice with them to ensure that real treatment is started, the books and armor have been boxed up, and the vats have been broken.

Starday, 4 Erastus, 4708
On Fireday evening, Shrike appears again at the Hospice of the Blessed Maiden with a cart drawn by a shivering, bony carthorse, hardly larger than a pony. She does not volunteer where she found this depressing equipage, and no one asks. But the carrots it is crunching away at look very like the ones that, until recently, were growing in Zellara's garden.

As the summer storm breaks over their heads, over the course of the evening into the late night of Fireday and the wee morning hours of Starday, she throws a woollen blanket over the horse's back and uses the cart to first take the boxed books to Shane, the bundles of armor to the warehouse, and then to deliver the three living Queen's Physicians and two Gray Maidens in the warehouse — blindfolded and gagged — to Citadel Volshyenek, where Kroft can hold and question them about the extent of the "infiltration," if it pleases her to do so.

For the rest of Starday, she takes shifts guarding Shane and running copies of notes to wherever they need to be, cat-napping in place as she can. She also asks Kandru to use as many of her prayers for the day as possible to help the diseased victims still in the Hospice.

Sunday, 5 Erastus, 4708

Kandru nods attentively as the alchemist presents the list of ingredients and steps for production. "I'm no alchemist, but might I have a copy of this list? With how many copies of the cure must be produced in a short amount of time, it's imperative that we have some sort of logistical system in place - I've been working on a means to distribute the cure once found, but I'll need that list to continue my work on procuring the reagents and getting them to the alchemists."

"Should get one of these to every alchemist in the city. Won't take long if it's just one sheet. Who gets the first dose?" Shrike begins making fair copies of the single sheet of instructions in a surprisingly beautiful, looping hand as she listens to the explanation. She helps deliver them when it is determined enough have been made.

Kandru nods attentively as the alchemist presents the list of ingredients and steps for production. "I'm no alchemist, but might I have a copy of this list? With how many copies of the cure must be produced in a short amount of time, it's imperative that we have some sort of logistical system in place - I've been working on a means to distribute the cure once found, but I'll need that list to continue my work on procuring the reagents and getting them to the alchemists."

The tired Tiefling nods, "I'll help crank out a few, Hale will likely help me too. Not sure about Pava, they grumble about aching hands. They PUMMEL creatures made of solid bone, but writing hurts their hands." Shane shakes his his head then realizes he might want to watch annoying the Shoanti, "AND I'm grateful for their help. of course. Anyway, I'll try to copy some more."

Audria's meals hit just the right spot - filling enough, but without making one drowsy, nutritious and tasty. Once copies of the cure recipe are made, they are distributed to every temple and skilled alchemist in the city. The church of Pharasma sends a few novice priests to care for the sick people at the Hospice of the Blessed Maiden, who try to stall the progress of the disease until enough doses of the cure are made.

Temple: 1d4 ⇒ 2

As the joyous news spread, the city of Korvosa lets out a collective sigh of relief. Many are mourning the loss of loved ones, but for the most part people are eager to get back to their lives - without the specter of a deadly plague hanging over them. The reputation of those who were instrumental in finding the cure and stopping those responsible for the ravages of blood veil also spreads. Nearly everyone in the city knows a version of what happened in the Urgathoan lair beneath the hospice, and the tales about those directly involved grow, sometimes to fantastical dimensions of the real people.

If you want to invent some outrageous rumours about your PC, now's the time.

Perhaps most importantly, their contribution is publicly - and materially - recognized. At a ceremony with closed attendance held at the City Hall in North Point, Sabina Merrin presents the city saviours with a writ and conveys the Queen's words of praise and gratitude. After the ceremony, everyone is invited to Tayce Soldado's house, where the Varisians rescued from the hospice and their families have prepared a thank you feast. Many bring modest hand-made gifts for the heroes to whom they own their lives - embroidered scarves, colourful jewelry, exquisitely illustrated Harrow decks, fine clothing). Almost everywhere they go afterwards, they are recognized and offered gifts and services in gratitude; artisans gift them items they made, scholars offer their knowledge, many even open their own homes as a place to rest in need. Lastly, Field marshal Cressida Kroft personally thanks the group for their extensive aid and officially deputizes them as members of the Korvosan guard.

REWARDS:
- mundane trade goods worth 250 gp per PC (from the Varisians)
- items/services worth no more than 1000 gp per PC (from grateful citizens)
- equipment (arms and armour, including magical) worth up to 2500 gp per PC (from the Korvosan Guard armory)
- a 5000 gp writ for purchases within Korvosa per PC (from the queen).
Everyone gets all of the above.

If you want to invent some outrageous rumours about your PC, now's the time.

On the record, the GM literally asked for it ;) Okay, encouraged. If you're not the GM feel free to ignore as it is a LOT of nonsense that bubbled into my brain but please feel even more free to take a peek and see what you think. Hope it entertains at least.

Once copies of the cure recipe are made, they are distributed to every temple and skilled alchemist in the city. The church of Pharasma sends a few novice priests to care for the sick people at the Hospice of the Blessed Maiden, who try to stall the progress of the disease until enough doses of the cure are made.

As the joyous news spread, the city of Korvosa lets out a collective sigh of relief. Many are mourning the loss of loved ones, but for the most part people are eager to get back to their lives - without the specter of a deadly plague hanging over them. The reputation of those who were instrumental in finding the cure and stopping those responsible for the ravages of blood veil also spreads. Nearly everyone in the city knows a version of what happened in the Urgathoan lair beneath the hospice, and the tales about those directly involved grow, sometimes to fantastical dimensions of the real people.

"—heard it was that elf who put the bodies of the Urgathoan leaders on pikes and dragged them out before the robins and everyone, just like she did with Old Man Lamm and his crew."

***

"—that's a Mordant Spire elf for you, sure as eggs is eggs. They're thoroughgoing savages that have murdered whole ships for passing too close. They all wear masks like that, and they don't take prisoners or have any mercy in 'em at all. They don't even have eyes under the masks, just empty sockets that leak smoke."

"Well, my uncle's daughter-in-law's little girl saw her up close in full daylight and the skin of her hands was gray as cobbles! She's not an elf or a mortal at all, she's a stone-hearted gargoyle that comes to life to hunt the living. She waits on rooftops and then swoops down on criminals. They're never seen again, except for when some are stuck on spikes. Those are the just the ones she doesn't eat."

"It's because she's a strix, you peahens, not a gargoyle or an elf. They've got white hair and gray skin and long ears just like that, and they're barbarian cannibals."

"No, strixes have wings. Where are her wings, then, clever-clogs—"

***

"—most of them seem like good folk. Even the tieflings and the h— the Shoanti are credits to their people. That's what a good education and a decent Korvosan upbringing can do, haven't I always said it? But that one who wears the bird mask is no hero — she's an assassin of some foreign god. I even heard she was hired by the queen to kill the king."

"Pretty strange assassin that returns stolen children to their families with purses full of gold. No, she's Korvosan, and she wants to do right by us. No foreigner would care about pincher kids—"

***

"—rs and mask are just a sham. Magic can make you look like anything, right? Probably a bored noblewoman that likes to feel she's doing something for the little people when really —"

***

"—kids are already reading too many Blackjack stories these days and getting the wrong ideas. I don't need them making bird masks and jumping off the roof onto the alderman because he's 'in league with the evil Queen'—"

At a ceremony with closed attendance held at the City Hall in North Point, Sabina Merrin presents the city saviours with a writ and conveys the Queen's words of praise and gratitude. After the ceremony, everyone is invited to Tayce Soldado's house, where the Varisians rescued from the hospice and their families have prepared a thank you feast. Many bring modest hand-made gifts for the heroes to whom they owe their lives - embroidered scarves, colourful jewelry, exquisitely illustrated Harrow decks, fine clothing). Almost everywhere they go afterwards, they are recognized and offered gifts and services in gratitude; artisans gift them items they made, scholars offer their knowledge, many even open their own homes as a place to rest in need. Lastly, Field Marshal Cressida Kroft personally thanks the group for their extensive aid and officially deputizes them as members of the Korvosan guard.

For the entire ceremony with Sabina Merrin, and then again with Cressida Kroft, Shrike somehow manages to look acutely uncomfortable while standing stock-still. She studies Captain Merrin carefully throughout the delivery of Ileosa's secondhand praise. Is the head of the Queen's personal guard genuinely pleased, disappointed, angry, or something else?

Not really knowing what to do with Varisian-style embroidered scarves or jewelry, or Harrow decks that do not have a resident ghost, Shrike seems most interested in bartering them back to the other artisans and craftspeople who offer their services, especially those whose specialties might be related to weatherproofing, repairs, and the comfortable furnishing of a home. Shrike doesn't know how to mend a roof, replace a window, make a chair, install a fireplace, or generally turn an abandoned warehouse into a comfortable, livable space, but she is interested in doing that for the safehouse. Discreetly. Please let me know how much it will be, GM.

When they have all had a chance to sleep, bathe and eat a proper meal, and she has seen her family properly for the first time in a while, Shrike takes the salvaged black satin bedding to Shane's home at Lancet Street. Some of it is stiff with small pools of dried blood, and several sheets have small, neat, rapier-blade-shaped rents in the fabric. "Think you could fix these up. It's good fabric." After a moment she realizes this might come across as though she wants to keep them for trophies, or worse, her own bedding, and clarifies. "House drakes might want it. For nests. Or something."

When they have all had a chance to sleep, bathe and eat a proper meal, and she has seen her family properly for the first time in a while, Shrike takes the salvaged black satin bedding to Shane's home at Lancet Street. Some of it is stiff with small pools of dried blood, and several sheets have small, neat, rapier-blade-shaped rents in the fabric. "Think you could fix these up. It's good fabric."

Shane has books and scrolls all about him, notes and more and he looks up from his desk, better recovered than he was sleep wise, but with a kind of stress one wouldn't expect of a victorious hero. He blinks as for a moment he wonders if she's confused him for a tailor shop... but fortunately she clarifies.

After a moment she realizes this might come across as though she wants to keep them for trophies, or worse, her own bedding, and clarifies. "House drakes might want it. For nests. Or something."

"Oh," He says surprised, and more than a little relieved, "I'm behind on several projects, but I'll put it on the to do list. Our House Drake friends have certainly earned that and more. Very kind of you. I'm just a bit shaken dealing with unwanted fame and ... a dubious gift now a part of my magic. But I will get to it. Have a drink while you're here if you like. The liquor cabinet, such as it is, is stuffed to the gills. There's some Applejack if you like, I never cared for the stuff. Also a bottle of Korvosan wine, Andoran Ale, and.. something vaguely elven or meant to resemble it. I didn't drink everything folks gave me, I'd be embalmed if I did."

@Shrike - buying an apartment in the West Dock costs a minimum of 2000 gp, but just making a space livable would be around a quarter that - 500 gp - mostly because it's a warehouse, not a house, and there would be a lot of structural changes needed. This would be a party cost, imo.

As soon as the first samples of the cure are ready, Elric mounts Galewing and takes flight towards the nearest temple.

Not even the weight of their recent ordeal and the Queen's betrayal of her own people can temper the pure elation he feels finally being able to soar above the city on his bonded hippogriff mount.

***

During the ceremony at City Hall, he stands at strict attention in a crisp dress uniform, his military discipline all that prevents him from openly sneering at the thick hypocrisy on both sides.

You know that the Queen was behind those plague-mongers, just as we do. And you can trust that each of us will use this reward to bolster our ability to oppose you. I suspect our next meeting won't be as cordial. He thinks, smiling politely at Sabina Merrin as she hands him the reward.

***

Once the celebrations are over, he gathers most of the weapons and armor captured from the cult and straps it to Galewing for delivery to the City Guard and Sable Company. Purely role-play of Elric bartering these for his new gear rather than spending gold.

"These were used by enemies of Korvosa. The least we can do is ensure that they end up in the hands of her defenders," he says as he heads for the Great Tower and Citadel Volshyenek.

After first dropping off some of the equipment at Citadel Volshyenek, he arrives at the Great Tower, taking pleasure in landing on the roof near the hippogriff aeries rather than entering across the bridge leading to the third floor.

Even as he guides Galewing in for the landing, he notices that most of Sable Company's hostlers and hippogriff trainers gathering to greet them. They raise up a loud cheer as Galewing's talons touch down on the tower stones.

"We all heard how you and your companions rescued Hostler Krand, Rivers! And how Galewing here tore up one those sorry bastards masquerading as physicians. So, we have found a couple of things to show our appreciation." one of the senior trainer says proudly as Elric dismounts.

He motions, and a couple of the hostlers bring forward a magnificent set of mithral barding and begin draping it over Galewing.

"We've known Galewing since he was hatched from the egg and I think we always suspected he'd do great things. Now, we've been keeping this particular thing in reserve for a worthy candidate. It will make him even more formidable. Just make sure you he has plenty of space around him when you activate it," the senior trainer continues and holds up a spiked collar of heavy dark leather, motioning for Elric to fasten it around Galewing's feathered neck.

Another round of cheers erupt when Elric tightens the collar and steps back from the fully armored hippogriff, looking fiercer than ever covered in gleaming mithral chain.

"Now, I know the commander himself has ordered the quartermaster to dig something special out of the armory for you as well, so best head down below. We'll mind Galewing until you return," the trainer finishes.

That's all I have time for right now - part 2 coming soon.

You can have as much downtime as you need/want for item crafting, (re)training and whatnot. Just posting for flavour.

Rumours that agents of the queen - Doctor Davaulus and his Queen's Physicians - were in league with the foul creators of blood veil begin to surface as the hidden complex of Urgathoa's temple is revealed under the Hospice of the Blessed Maiden. The official stance is that the charming doctor duped Her Majesty, and that his actions and those of his masked minions do not accurately reflect her desires. Gray Maidens involved in the hospice claim to have had no knowledge of the true goings-on in the chambers below, and Dr. Davaulus is posthumously branded a traitor to the city and his holdings seized. Without hard evidence that she was involved, the majority of Korvosa's citizens find it difficult to believe that their queen, however vain and unpleasant, could be the source of such an evil. Most of Korvosa's citizens are simply thankful that the scourge of blood veil has passed, and are eager to get back to their lives. The city is too wounded to contemplate rebellion.

Yet as the rumors of the queen's involvement grow, so do her resources. The armored women in service of Ileosa become more prominent in the city, and progressively oppressive laws and edicts begin to appear. Regular patrols of Gray Maidens march along the major streets, and rumors spread that strike forces are breaking into homes and buildings reputed to house those who voiced dissenting opinions of the monarchy. Old Korvosa remains under a tight quarantine, with troops of Gray Maidens stationed along the Narrows and patrolling the Jeggare in swift barges to ensure that no one gets off Endrin Isle. The plumes of smoke as buildings burn and the periodic roars of riots that echo down from Old Korvosa alone are enough to warn away the curious.

Korvosa has survived the hideous plague, but not unscathed. The streets are dull and muted, strangely empty except for when markets quietly open. People seem to be more interested in staying home than going out, and when they do emerge, they shuffle quickly to their destinations and conduct their business swiftly. The Order of the Nail has withdrawn from Korvosa, retreating to Citadel Vraid for the first time in Korvosa's history. Some whisper the Hellknights are planning a full-scale invasion of Korvosa to seize control, but more knowledgeable sources know that dozens of Hellknights perished or failed to uphold their charges during the recent events. City temples have their hands full tracking down the last remaining pockets of sick residents and disposing of the dead, while the Acadamae continues to keep its doors shut and withhold its resources for the duration, hoping to wait out these troubled times. The Sable Company is falling apart, and the Korvosan Guard has taken staggering hits to both its personnel and its morale.

Ninja'd by Elric, adding a bit for the Sable Company below.

Great, GM, that's what I wanted to know, thanks. It sounds like Audria is in support of splitting the cost between the party members, do we have buy-in from one more person? That would be 83.33 gp per PC. If anyone has any specific ideas or requests of what should be included or what the final product would look like, I'd love to hear them! Especially things that would make Galewing or the house drakes comfortable, etc.

With Shane

"I'm behind on several projects, but I'll put it on the to do list. Our House Drake friends have certainly earned that and more. Very kind of you. I'm just a bit shaken dealing with unwanted fame and ... a dubious gift now a part of my magic. But I will get to it. Have a drink while you're here if you like. The liquor cabinet, such as it is, is stuffed to the gills. There's some Applejack if you like, I never cared for the stuff. Also a bottle of Korvosan wine, Andoran Ale, and... something vaguely elven or meant to resemble it. I didn't drink everything folks gave me, I'd be embalmed if I did."

Shrike, who has never drunk anything at all in Shane's presence except the small potion vial immediately after the knock-down drag-out battle with two versions of Andaisin, goes to the cabinet, uncorks the dubiously elven vintage, and sniffs it. Her head rocks back slightly in surprise.

"Thanks. Never seen this for sale here." She takes two small cordial glasses from the cabinet and pours a careful ounce or so of nearly clear spirits into each. "Miruvor. Or moondrop. Mead made with flowers. It's good. If you like mead. But strong."

Shrike leaves one glass by Shane's elbow and toasts him with the other. "Here's to the savior of Korvosa..." She whistles an easily recognizable version of the the titular hook of "A Wizard Named Shane." "And the maneating gargoyle who killed the King. I know which I'd rather be. No offense."

She lifts the shrike mask just enough to sip from the cordial glass. It is the real thing, if she is any judge: lightly sweet with the golden-fresh scent of honeysuckle, elderflower, and that small, white wildflower that foams in profusion over sun-drenched rocks throughout the Mierani Forest. Alyssum, she thinks it is called.

The miruvor found in songs and stories often has magic infused into each sip, such that one small bottle can act as a restorative potion for many people. This merely tastes expensive and refreshing, though she knows it is not as rare and precious as a midsummer wine, which might need decades of aging before being considered worthy to serve. She savors a second sip, and then stops. Like other elven liquors, moondrop is smooth enough to be deceptively easy to drink, and it had only taken one episode of misjudgment for her to learn to respect its potency.

It is a while before she speaks again. "Wanted to ask a favor." The shrike mask does not stare directly at him, as though she knows its impassive regard is intimidating. "If you can. I'd like to learn to use that glim-stick myself. There's a lot more real frogmakers in the same service as those three. The wands give us options."

***

With Audria
Merula appears at Audria's doorstep after sunset on Moonday the sixth of Erastus, having given her a full day to rest and recover after responsibility for the cure has been passed out of their hands and on to the broader network of alchemists, priests and Kandru's delivery sites. She brings a thank-you basket from theater friends, full of cards, wall hangings and other decorative art pieces for a new flat. "Did the scroll work on Brother Theolan? Do they need anything more? I hope you have rested at least a little. There is much to do; your project, of course, and I have at least one more that may hold your interest. And, if you happen to have the time to visit Leftover's in East Shore some time in the next few days, they are singing a new song there that I think you will find extremely diverting."

***

General Downtime
In the days and weeks after the cure is discovered, things seem to go back to a thin facade of normalcy over a growing chasm of unease — as though the whole city holds its breath in dread of the day the truth becomes undeniable. Shrike spends the time frantically preparing for that day, while attempting to keep as low a profile as possible. Besides continuing on in her dance lessons and sadly under-attended performances for a grieving populace, Merula and the brunette elf cross and crisscross the city on mysterious errands: speaking to artisans, merchants, and tradesmen of all stripes as she uses every newly gained resource and favor to hedge all possible bets.

Yes to splitting the cost for setting up the safehouse (as long as we include a hippogriff stable).

***

***

Elric and Galewing return to Lancet Street, both looking splendid in shining mithral armor.

Accepting Shane's offer with gratitude, Elric pours a tall glass of Applejack, sipping it as he joins Shrike's toast. Afterwards, he recounts his meeting with Commander Endrin.

"I fear Korvosa will need a bit more saving soon. Both the guard and Sable Company are cracking, as much from the pressure of the Queen's iron fist as the events of the past few weeks."

General downtime
In the following time, Elric devotes most of his time to taking long flights on Galewing, training how they can move and fight as one. He practices airborne maneuvers, firing his new bow from the saddle and having Galewing hover in place as he jumps to the ground, letting his enchanted ring carry him down safely.

He also helps Shrike set up the safehouse and tries to find a few, precious hours to spend time alone with Audria.

Zellara's House

Shrike, who has never drunk anything at all in Shane's presence except the small potion vial immediately after the knock-down drag-out battle with two versions of Andaisin, goes to the cabinet, uncorks the dubiously elven vintage, and sniffs it. Her head rocks back slightly in surprise.

"Thanks. Never seen this for sale here." She takes two small cordial glasses from the cabinet and pours a careful ounce or so of nearly clear spirits into each. "Miruvor. Or moondrop. Mead made with flowers. It's good. If you like mead. But strong."

Always happy to learn, Shane makes a mental note of the name of the now identified beverage, and answers "Miruvor, mmm. Oh you're welcome to the whole bottle if you like though," He sees two glasses being put out and arches a brow in surprise, "I shan't be so rude as to be unsocial."

Shrike leaves one glass by Shane's elbow and toasts him with the other. "Here's to the savior of Korvosa..." She whistles an easily recognizable version of the the titular hook of "A Wizard Named Shane." "And the maneating gargoyle who killed the King. I know which I'd rather be. No offense."

Shane groans, "First, the song mentions 'A' Savior of Korvosa, meaning I am but part of a plural, secondly, I am tempted to put out a contract killing on whatever minstrel made that monstrosity. I won't, but I'm tempted," He raises the glass and looks at the liquid swirling it a bit, "There's also a lad selling broadsheets I want to feeblemind, but urges were meant to be resisted or so some churches say. As for my friend the Gargoyle, I envy you. I've been outed far more than any illusionist should be even if it's buried in enough hyperbole to kill a woolly Mammoth. You at least are masked still. So here's to your caution paying off, fellow City Savior. "

"Wanted to ask a favor." The shrike mask does not stare directly at him, as though she knows its impassive regard is intimidating. "If you can. I'd like to learn to use that glim-stick myself. There's a lot more real frogmakers in the same service as those three. The wands give us options."

"I'm not sure how good I'll be at teaching that, but I'll try to pass on a bit of the basics I was taught at the Academe. I see your point about utility and now that we're on the map so to speak, we need advantages other folks WON'T suspect. I am behind on numerous projects of a... personal nature but I'll squeeze time in." Indeed, Shane looks more than a bit troubled, "And I must..."

Elric and Galewing return to Lancet Street, both looking splendid in shining mithral armor.

Accepting Shane's offer with gratitude, Elric pours a tall glass of Applejack, sipping it as he joins Shrike's toast. Afterwards, he recounts his meeting with Commander Endrin.

"I fear Korvosa will need a bit more saving soon. Both the guard and Sable Company are cracking, as much from the pressure of the Queen's iron fist as the events of the past few weeks."

Shane greets Elric, compliments his new gear, and then listens to his recounting of the meeting, "Dandy, the Sable Compny is ill treated I fear. You deserve a promotion, of course, Elric, but you are a target, more so than I. You're tied to an organization others respect. You're human, and you fit the classic hero look." As the mention of saving the city again goes on, he nods "I know. The Temple of Aroden which once housed me is but part of the closed off ward. I had hoped to assist it's restoration and possible upgrade if the Priests allowed it, but I can't get laborers there right now even if they agreed." The Wizard frowns "There's a lot I have to do before we go in to save the day again, much of it personal, but a lot of it preparatory."

To both he says, "Know this, my crash course in facing Undead, Dark Priests, and necromatic magics has... been educational. Necromancy was always both my least favorite of the branches of magic, and also one that I struggled with to the point of making it less effective in my hands. That last has changed. I am able to cast ALL the Necromancy spells I've gathered from that Derro's book as well as other places with disturbing ease. Illusions are still and will always be my specialty, but I find myself ... burdened with another avenue of power I've always disdained. Such are the rewards of my life. I tell you only because of two things; One- So you may know the growing magical arsenal at the group's disposal, and two- So I have someone to put me down like a rabid dog if I ever start talking like Lichdom is merely a lifestyle."

He raises his glass again, "Cheers." And swigs.
Then blinks, "I know it is anti-climatic to add this on, but you weren't kidding about this stuff sneaking up on you."

Elric raises his glass and joins Shane in another long drink.

"Good to know, Shane. I'd greatly appreciate it if you would postpone any plans of becoming a lich until after I'm dead and gone. Honestly, I just don't have the energy to fight another powerful spellcaster turned undead monstrosity any time soon." he grins.

I have a bunch of ideas lined up for the safehouse. Will drop them in the discussion thread later. Do we know the location and approximate size?

Also, fair warning, I've been theory-crafting about synergies between our various abilities. Long-ish post with unsolicited advice on group tactics incoming shortly as well.

Elric raises his glass and joins Shane in another long drink.

"Good to know, Shane. I'd greatly appreciate it if you would postpone any plans of becoming a lich until after I'm dead and gone. Honestly, I just don't have the energy to fight another powerful spellcaster turned undead monstrosity any time soon." he grins.

"Oh I'm quite serious about my request," He says drolly, but admits "Not that I can blame your feelings on the matter. I'm about undead monstrositied out myself."

"Illusions are still and will always be my specialty, but I find myself ... burdened with another avenue of power I've always disdained. Such are the rewards of my life. I tell you only because of two things; One- So you may know the growing magical arsenal at the group's disposal, and two- So I have someone to put me down like a rabid dog if I ever start talking like lichdom is merely a lifestyle."

Elric raises his glass and joins Shane in another long drink.

"Good to know, Shane. I'd greatly appreciate it if you would postpone any plans of becoming a lich until after I'm dead and gone. Honestly, I just don't have the energy to fight another powerful spellcaster turned undead monstrosity any time soon." He grins.

"Oh I'm quite serious about my request," He says drolly, but admits, "Not that I can blame your feelings on the matter. I'm about undead monstrositied out myself."

The mask had turned to face Shane full-on as soon as he mentioned being able to cast necromantic spells. Shrike remains that way, motionless, for a time. It is true that Abella is able to use such magics without seeming to become tempted to start stitching corpses together or raising the dead in shuffling enslavement. Yet it is also true that many journeys that ended there began with just such a curiosity and compromise as this.

The croak is even and simple. "You won't become a soul-stealer while I live."

Shrike does not elaborate.

Since I missed it the first time:

Old Korvosa remains under a tight quarantine, with troops of Gray Maidens stationed along the Narrows and patrolling the Jeggare in swift barges to ensure that no one gets off Endrin Isle. The plumes of smoke as buildings burn and the periodic roars of riots that echo down from Old Korvosa alone are enough to warn away the curious.

Appalled when she realizes the forcible quarantine of Old Korvosa is apparently being maintained even though a cure has been found, Shrike argues for surreptitiously taking the cure to Endrin Isle under cover of darkness, and even volunteers for the task herself. Ivy was able to move to Ridgefield with the Mirukova siblings just before the outbreak, and Pava's family has been evacuated; but Audria has friends including Jessica l'Morie at Madame Ioana's, and many of her old Follies friends and acquaintances live spread out across Old Korvosa. Even the highly accomplished Gisela Soveshki's family, she thinks, are still living in Bridgefront.

They cannot simply allow the plague to spread unchecked. It may be too dangerous to transport many doses of the cure across the Narrows night after night, but at the very least, that Ledbetter's Apothecary that she had bought the antiplague from must receive some of the cure and a copy of the receipt.

The mask had turned to face Shane full-on as soon as he mentioned being able to cast necromantic spells. Shrike remains that way, motionless, for a time. It is true that Abella is able to use such magics without seeming to become tempted to start stitching corpses together or raising the dead in shuffling enslavement. Yet it is also true that many journeys that ended there began with just such a curiosity and compromise as this.

The croak is even and simple. "You won't become a soul-stealer while I live."

Shrike does not elaborate.

Shane raises a glass in quiet thanks to Shrike.

You can finalize any purchases, downtime activities etc. retroactively.

Book 3: Escape From Old Korvosa

By chance - or not - everyone is gathered in the abandoned warehouse that Shrike has converted into a safehouse, and that Audria and Shane have made comfortable under the helpful direction of Majenko. Somehow, even the well-worn and well-loved stuffed armchair from Arkminos's laboratory has made it here.

The dusty air becomes suddenly charged as Zellara's familiar form fades into view, sitting cross-legged on the floor with an image of her Harrow deck on her lap.

"My friends," she smiles warmly. "You have done so much good, putting an end to this cursed plague. I- I could feel the other woman... Kasanda. Only a small part of her was left, but she was doing her best to protect her people. Like me, I suppose - even after death we do our best to help."

She nods to herself, picking up the deck and shuffling it slowly. "And alas, this city still needs me, and it still needs you."

Nine cards separate from the deck and hover face down, a hand's width above the floor. Suddenly, five of them shoot out to land in the hands of each person present.

"The Fool," Zellara intones. "A card of grave foolishness and greed. Cruel bloodsport called a game, the fool with delusions of royalty sinks into the depths of violence and depravity. My child, you are naïve at times, but you have a good heart. Do not let the sight of evil taint it."

"Spies and merchants, those who trade in gold and those who trade in information - all are subject to this card. It can be a bridge between faiths and cultures, and a bargain made under this auspice always concludes true, but its ramifications might go deeper than you think."

"The Wanderer," Zellara frowns, "is a collector who appreciates what others might think of as trash. But misaligned it can mean the opposite - the inability to see true value in a person or a situation. It also embodies a duality in home and body, mind the hidden nature of those you meet."

"The Vision strikes in different ways; it can take the form of madness or cryptic words, or a brush with genius. The burden of inspiration can leave some shattered and broken, and all knowledge has a price."

"Korvosa holds many secrets, and some of them shall be revealed to you soon. This card has the power to reveal hidden truths, but some of these revelations may be detrimental to you." Zellara fixes Shrike with a knowing look, seeming to look past her bird's mask.

Pausing before doing the actual harrowing to let people react to their chosen cards if they want to.

Pava/Nips at Heels: 1d9 ⇒ 6 1d9 ⇒ 3 1d2 ⇒ 1

Zellara pauses before speaking about the last card, a shudder passing through her ethereal form. "This... has great importance, I feel. The card of the Rakshasa is in direct opposition, as old as you are young, enslaving and dominating where you are free-spirited. Beware those who would seek to control others, or manipulate you to their own ends. Of all the cards revealed tonight, this one carries the greatest weight in your near future."

At the Safehouse

By chance - or not - everyone is gathered in the abandoned warehouse that Shrike has converted into a safehouse, and that Audria and Shane have made comfortable under the helpful direction of Majenko. Somehow, even the well-worn and well-loved stuffed armchair from Arkminos's laboratory has made it here.

Which Shane seems to have claimed. It is honestly the most comfortable arm chair he’s ever had the pleasure to own, and more than that, its historical significance delights him.

When Zellara’s ghost appears on the floor though, he rises as if to offer it to her. She passes on that…

The dusty air becomes suddenly charged as Zellara's familiar form fades into view, sitting cross-legged on the floor with an image of her Harrow deck on her lap.

"My friends," she smiles warmly. "You have done so much good, putting an end to this cursed plague. I- I could feel the other woman... Kasanda. Only a small part of her was left, but she was doing her best to protect her people. Like me, I suppose - even after death we do our best to help."
She nods to herself, picking up the deck and shuffling it slowly. "And alas, this city still needs me, and it still needs you."
Nine cards separate from the deck and hover face down, a hand's width above the floor. Suddenly, five of them shoot out to land in the hands of each person present.

Shane, of course, is mostly focused on his own.

"The Vision strikes in different ways; it can take the form of madness or cryptic words, or a brush with genius. The burden of inspiration can leave some shattered and broken, and all knowledge has a price."

Thinking of his gains in Necromancy, his growing power, and the horrors he’s experienced to make it happen, Shane nods ”Truer words were rarely spoken but I’ve found ignorance to be more costly still in the long run.” He takes the card seriously. Harrow Cards weren’t a point of study at the Academae, at least not that he took any class in, but the insights they’ve granted have paid off more than once. Some new insight that might risk my sanity? Good grief, there’s a nightmare though it maybe worth the risk if it can lead to clues on how to save this rotten miserable city that I’m all too fond of. Honestly if I had sense I’d move to Harse and just get used to shoveling hay and putting on phatasmal shows.

Shane does contemplate what he hears of the others cards, and Pava’s has him most intrigued as it appears to be the one that is tied to the Near Future? Though Near is a relative term he supposes.

”Zellara, your cards , as always, offer us insight, but any advice beyond that you suggest?”

Book 3: Escape From Old Korvosa

By chance - or not - everyone is gathered in the abandoned warehouse that Shrike has converted into a safehouse, and that Audria and Shane have made comfortable under the helpful direction of Majenko. Somehow, even the well-worn and well-loved stuffed armchair from Arkminos's laboratory has made it here.

The dusty air becomes suddenly charged as Zellara's familiar form fades into view, sitting cross-legged on the floor with an image of her Harrow deck on her lap.

Shrike, who has been silently tracing routes across the Narrows of St. Alika to get to Old Korvosa on a large custom map of the city spread out on a table so new it still smells of fresh oak, does not exactly twitch. But the short-beaked mask shifts its direction slightly as she subtly comes to attention when the air changes to herald the arrival of the ghost and the deck of cards leaves its secret pocket at her waist. Davaulus's shining mithral chain has been transformed into something longer, sturdier, hooded like her cloak; the color of a moonless night, shadows and deeper shadows. Rolth Lamm's shield-like onyx ring is on her hand, and a soft angled band of black leather with two pieces worked like leaves at the hips holds the chain mail snug so it does not shift or clink. "Honored shade."

"My friends," she smiles warmly. "You have done so much good, putting an end to this cursed plague. I- I could feel the other woman... Kasanda. Only a small part of her was left, but she was doing her best to protect her people. Like me, I suppose - even after death we do our best to help."

She nods to herself, picking up the deck and shuffling it slowly. "And alas, this city still needs me, and it still needs you."

Nine cards separate from the deck and hover face down, a hand's width above the floor. Suddenly, five of them shoot out to land in the hands of each person present.

An old man in a tall cap and glasses stares at the viewer with apparent shock or surprise. One long-nailed finger points down to an open book in front of him, while the other hand is raised, pointing upwards with a bright flame burning on the tip of the finger. The card is upside down.

Shrike catches the card without thinking about it, and stares at it uncomprehending for a moment before turning it the right way up. This is the first time a card from Zellara's deck has not landed perfectly in her hand, which no doubt is a sign of its own. She listens first as Zellara's ghost describes the meaning of the tormented fool, the foreign peddler, the wandering centaur, and the inspired craftsman.

"Korvosa holds many secrets, and some of them shall be revealed to you soon. This card has the power to reveal hidden truths, but some of these revelations may be detrimental to you." Zellara fixes Shrike with a knowing look, seeming to look past her bird's mask.

Shrike turns the card upside down again, the way it appeared to her. The truth is a knife. Wield it carefully. It is her father's gentle, measured tones, from some long-ago parlor where casual chat and light laughter determined the course of many lives. Which ships would sail and when; whose businesses would prosper or falter; whether a smile was real, or a dagger in the dark. That being known is dangerous is a lesson she learned long before the mask.

But something in her resists, a falcon bating against its jesses. Shrike is free in ways Merula is not. One of them is that she does not have to lie. Some things are better dragged into the light. She has lain awake often, thinking of the last time she stood by and allowed a terrible truth to be concealed. A riot, made worse at the exact wrong time, when it might never have happened or the public outrage might have burned itself out days before instead. A life cut short.

She turns the card so the bright flame burns upward.

"This... has great importance, I feel. The card of the Rakshasa is in direct opposition, as old as you are young, enslaving and dominating where you are free-spirited. Beware those who would seek to control others, or manipulate you to their own ends. Of all the cards revealed tonight, this one carries the greatest weight in your near future."

Tension curls in Shrike's long frame. There is a certain menace to Pava's card: animal savagery cloaked in the trappings of civilization. It is more than a little baffling to her. All the queen's actions so far have been at one or two removes. She works through agents, not directly. So should they be wary of the wererats again, or perhaps that her friends in the red masks will target the temples of Abadar and Shelyn and Pharasma who did the most to end the plague; the Sable Company; Shane's wizarding friends; Pava's family? Her own, if despite the many measures she has taken to conceal them from notice and thus harm, she has been unwary or unlucky?

"Zellara, your cards, as always, offer us insight, but any advice beyond that you suggest?"

"For ending the quarantine. Or the reign," Shrike adds, in case this is too general. The skies have continued to be intermittently stormy in the past few days, but no one could think she is referring to the weather.

Was Shrike successful in getting the cure and recipe into Old Korvosa? And what day is it now, GM? We defeated Andaisin in basement of the Hospice of the Blessed Maiden on Fireday, 3 Erastus, 4708. Are we now past the 14th of Erastus, aka Korvosa's Founding Festival holiday?

Yes, Shrike was successful in getting the recipe and cure across the Narrows into Old Korvosa. As for the date, I left it vague in case people needed a certain amount of downtime for retraining/crafting. Let's say the Founding Festival is coming very soon.

Zellara pauses before speaking about the last card, a shudder passing through her ethereal form. "This... has great importance, I feel. The card of the Rakshasa is in direct opposition, as old as you are young, enslaving and dominating where you are free-spirited. Beware those who would seek to control others, or manipulate you to their own ends. Of all the cards revealed tonight, this one carries the greatest weight in your near future."

Can't say as I would have been exactly playful with manipulative tyrants Nips at Heels pointedly does not say to the spirit before them. "Enslaving and dominating isn't quite hard to come by at the moment, but the woman I'm thinking of isn't exactly a crone..." They shrug, trying to play off the awesome dread that Zellara evinces by her simple presence. "Any elves on her majesty's payroll?"

Zellara's ghost looks at Pava, a frown creasing her forehead. "Behind the queen, there is... another." Her gaze becomes unfocused as she appears to concentrate on something distant, then she shakes her head. "I cannot see clearly. Perhaps the cards will offer a hint."

She beings to lay the Harrow spread, in the familiar three by three face-down pattern.

||The Trader || The Publican] || The Big Sky
||The Sickness, inverted || The Inquisitor || The Fiend
|| The Fool, inverted || The Unicorn, inverted || The Forge

She turns the cards in the leftmost column face up. "The reason you were able to defeat the bloodveil was information. You traded lives or clever lies for crucial knowledge that allowed you to act where others could not, or would not. Some of these trades chipped away at principles you held dear, but only you can tell if the price was worth it." She taps the second and third cards. "Your caution paid off, and you all emerged from the epidemic with your health intact. And you took advantage of others' foolishness and greed to get what you needed. However, those are pervasive traits and they still hold sway over people who shape the fate of the city."

Moving to the center column, she turns those cards over as well. "Now, for the present. Traditionally, The Publican symbolizes fellowship and camaraderie, but inverted it means that refuge cannot be found. There are those who would take action to save Korvosa, but-" she taps the upside-down Unicorn card, "their friends fail them and they are desperate and alone, in hiding or on the run." She looks at the middle card. "Worse for them, they have the attention of one who can draw out answers by any means necessary."

She pauses in her reading to look at everyone. "This is most unsettling. I sense there is some urgency in finding these people and helping them." She moves to the last column, turning over the cards.

"The Big Sky signifies freedom from bondage and momentuous change, but also a trial to come. It is a true match, so the result of this trial is of utmost importance - not only to you, but to everyone in Korvosa. The Fiend hints at a dark and intelligent creature, one that consumes hope and not just lives, using The Forge to build up terrible strength. I fear that things might get worse before they get better."

Zellara gazes for another few moments at the cards, then raises her head. "This is all that the cards reveal to me, my friends. There are still great challenges ahead of you, but I have faith that you will overcome them."

"Any elves on her majesty's payroll?"

Shrike's ears twitch and the mask turns slightly toward Pava, though not a full-on stare. There is a permanent diplomatic embassy from the Mierani and a small community that has grown up around it in South Shore, but its residents tend to keep out of city affairs and the lives of her citizens. The rare exceptions, as she has reason to know, tend to end sadly for all involved.

Knowledge (Nobility) - Elves in city government or other very old beings 'behind' the Queen?: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Knowledge (Local) - Elves in city government or other very old beings 'behind' the Queen?: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27