The city guard of Korvosa breathes a sigh of relief as the festivities finally wind down. The celebration of King Eodred's birthday last night has drawn out the dregs of society, people who normally mock the lascivious king and his beautiful Chelaxian wife, Ileosa. Free wine has a way of silencing acerbic and critical tongues, as well as a chance to watch the beautiful Varisian dancing girls and a troupe of exotic Vudran veiled beauties. With the moon waning and sinking into the western seas, a spectacular dawn sunrise of pastel hues and radiant pinks bring a warmth to the crisp morning air. The early calls of fishermen sailing out to hunt reefclaw and the sounds of wagon wheels rolling over cobblestones are all part of the awakening city's commerce.
Dunzeltoff:
Your small room at the Sanctuary of Shelyn in North Point is lightly furnished with a desk, table, and chest, all of which are elegantly made in their simplicity. Your room looks out into the lush garden courtyard, and the early morning releases a brilliant aroma of climbing roses and flowers. A pleasant dream of the scent of rose petals and lavender, the scent of your beloved Kaltarra, is broken by the light knocking at your door. After a moment of silence, it quietly opens and you see Hethra, a fellow acoltye in training at the Sanctuary. Hethra's appearance is somewhat drawn and she has dark circles under her vivid green eyes.
"His Radiance Lusillo wishes to break fast with you and requests you meet him in the courtyard."
A twittering sound drew Dunzeltoff's attention to the window. Still in his bed, he gazed out into the sun-speckled courtyard, and he caught a rainbow colored bird darting by again. Awakening more fully now, he was entranced as the bird alit on his sill, and between it's trills he heard "Dunzeltoff... Dunzeltoff... Oh, get up already, you lazy Dwarf!"
Startlng awake from his dream, he found that no rainbow colored bird was singing to him, but it was merely Hethra, earnestly intent on shaking him out of bed. "Ah... Hethra, good morning", Toff murmured, "I was just having this dream, where.." "Yes, Yes", Hethra curtly injected, "I'm sure the Vudran dancers from last night were giving you quite a time in your dream... But I think you really want to wake up now, even if it's your day off from temple duties."
Finally awake now, the request for breakfast from the Cleric Lusillo himself started him into action, getting dressed and quickly brushing his hair as Hethra stod there. "Should... I wear the temple robes?", he ventured to Hethra, still unsure of all the protocols of the Sanctuary. "Don't be silly", she answered, this time with a bit friendlier tone now that he was moving, "His Radiance doesn't dress in his robes outside of his official duties, and you'd feel silly if you were all dressed up. Now let's get going."
As he pulled on his boots and tightened his belt, he gazed at Hethra, one of the other acolytes at the Sanctuary. At first he had felt like all the other acolytes were judging him and gossiping about the whole incident with Gaedran Lamm, but he had finally realized that most everyone else had their own problems, and what had happened to him (and dear Kaltarra, who paid the final price... DAMN!) was not even all that unique in a city as large and filled with dangerous criminals as Korvosa is... Gazing at her wooden expression, he wondered what pain Hethra might hold in her heart.
Hurrying out the door of his cell, Hethra took the lead and they both scurried thru the halls of the Sancuary, she informing him while they walked as fast as possible that His Radiance Lusillo was inviting Dunzeltoff to take breakfast in his sitting room overlooking the Sanctuary's garden courtyard, on the opposite side from the acolyte's cells.
Coming to the entrance to the Cleric's quarters, Hethra knocked, and turning to Dunzeltoff with a gentle smile, said "Don't worry, I know it hasn't been an easy time for you, but I know Shelyn is with you."
Hethra opens the door, and His Radiance Yanus Lusillo, ordained High Priest of Shelyn for the City of Korvosa, rises to greet you. A handsome clean-shaved human of thirty years with dark brown hair, light caramel-colored eyes and a tanned complexion, he is dressed a pale blue doublet and charcoal grey trous and knee-high boots.
The atrium is situated on the eastern wall of the Sanctuary, with high arched glass windows capturing the morning sun. Numerous orchids and flowering vines unknown in Varisian lands twine up several trellises. The western wall of the atrium is glass with rose vines etched into the glass, and a small wrought iron and glass door opens up into the interior courtyard of the Sanctuary.
High Priest Lusillo has set out a repast of reefclaw pasties, a bowl of dried fruit, and a pitcher of herb-scented water. A small book bound in red leather sits next to a half-eaten pasty.
"Dunzeltoff, thank you for coming," he says, clasping your arms in greeting. He gestures for you to sit at the table, turning to Hethra. "Thank you Hethra, that will be all."
You have only met Lusillo twice before, once when asking him for a place to stay and last Sunday during services, but despite that, something seems amiss.
Dunzeltoff feels honored and happy to meet Lusillo like this, and depending on how things flow, might comment positively on the previous nights' festivities and displays, perhaps approving of a Varisian troop dancing with ornamental glaives and ribbons in Shelyn's honor.
If comfortable, he'd probably thank Lusillo for his grace and generosity helping someone in need, and would probably mention how Shelyn's grace, and the help of rest of the Sanctuary, have helped him live thru his ordeal with Gaedran. He'd probably like to mention his waking dream of the colored bird, symbol of Shelyn.
"Ah, I'm glad you enjoyed the Glaive Dance, a Varisian troupe travels from Ilsurian every year to perform on the King's Birthday. Madame Nakaskya is a good friend of mine, I'll be having lunch with her later."
"The Eternal Rose blooms to remind us that grace and beauty can be found everywhere, if you know where to look. Generosity of spirit and of assistance is but one of her creeds, and I can only hope that staying here will help you through your loss and healing. But Shelyn seems to be trying to tell you something - what was your dream-bird doing? Singing? Watching?"
Yes... I feel, I'm starting to feel, something...
Your Radiance, I have known the most beautiful flower only to have it crushed out in my arms while I could do nothing. And it was because of me...
Yet, are not so many flowers crushed, or slowly wilted all around us? And yet new ones still have a chance, to rise up to the sun and let their pollen blow with the wind...
But yes, this morning the Rainbow Bird came to me, it was circling just outside my window, until it had gotten my attention... I, I only heard the briefest bit, but it was singing to me, singing the most beautiful tune...
I cannot fathom what it's song meant completely, but being in your presence, one among us who we can say has indead heard the song of Shelyn, strengthens my faith that there is another page, another turn where beauty florishes freely again.
Even when I think of the evils that beset us, of... even of Gaedran Lamm, foul murderer of lambs, my heart now goes out to the horizon, listening for that sweet song again, which could change everything.
...Ahem, thank you for listening to my words this morning, Your Radiance. Even with the song of the Rainbow Bird echoing from my dreams, my thoughts are still troubled by dark currents. But I feel this is all must be part of Shelyn's work, as one as hallowed as yourself must understand better than the rest of us.
"Do not beat yourself up too much, Dunzeltoff - you have yet a chance to make things right by finding her poisoner. The bird sings a song of renewal, but the song is unfinished - Shelyn can't do everything after all. Your dark thoughts are understandable, but you must come to terms with them before you can truly continue with your life." He gives you a small smile, then gives you the slim red-bound book laying on the table.
"Here, this a copy of the Sonnets, our holy book that guides us. Shelyn entreats us to create something beautiful each day, but I think finding this vile Lamm character and bringing him to justice would accomplish that," he says, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. He stands up from the table, setting down the napkin. "Please, take your time and finish breakfast while you read. I must go try and find where I misplaced something during last night's revelries."
"Hmm... Perhaps 'poetic justice' might be Shelyn's forte, huh?"
I thank him again, and will take him up on his offer, reading the book, at least some pages which call out to me, while enjoying the breakfast. The acolytes don't usually get such a full breakfast, so Dunzeltoff isn't going to miss this opportunity.
I also want to tell him to pass my compliment onto his friend Madame Nakaskya for her performance the last night. And I might have ONE question...
If he HAS heard any talk about me or Gaedran Lamm...?
Lusillo laughs at your small joke. "That is fitting, perhaps. I shall be sure to pass on your compliments to Madame Nakaskya."
His face frowns slightly at the subject of Lamm. "Everything I've found out about that rat is that he's annoying enough to the Korvosan Guard that they know who he is, but not enough of a big fish to have them devote any time to finding him. No talk about you, Dunzeltoff, and even if there was, it would be idle rumor. I shall be sure to let you know if I do hear anything."
He leaves the atrium, closing the door lightly behind him. As you eat your excellent meal and read the Sonnets, a blue and gold playing card falls out of the next page onto your plate face up. On the face, you see a buxom halfling lass in a bloody dress, with her right hand glowing blue and holding a crying red-skinned and devil-horned baby in her left. In silver gilt is a starbust at the top center of the card. As you flip over the card, the blue and gold pattern twists ever so, and you can read the following script:
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. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate and justice must be done.
Jericho:
The free cheap wine from the King's Birthday celebrations last night left a foul taste on your tongue and a dull headache between your ears. The cheap Old Dock tenement flat you've become accustomed to as home is not the best that Old Korvosa had to offer, but the price was right and as far away from East Shore's Theomanexus College as you could get. Your notes on your investigation of Gaedren Lamm are spread out on the floor, the burnt out stub of a candle lying in a pool of wax near your backpack and spellbook.
Your first month of searching for your sister has proved fruitless, and the inkling of doubt is starting to sneak into your mind. As you attempt to get back to sleep with your headache, the paper-thin walls of the flat let you know that your neighbor with the chronic cough is awake as well, hacking and wheezing his way through his wakeup, a process that you've estimated takes him at least an hour. Everyday, without fail.
However, the time of morning is right for a quick jaunt down to Reefclaw Run Market for the freshest catch of the day and a right fine breakfast and a cup of coffee to clear out the bad taste of old wine.
I make sure to 'clean up' breakfast, Dwarven style.
(I wonder why the Cleric didn't stay to finish more. Maybe he had already started eating before Dunzeltoff came. Who knows, Humans and their finicky stomachs...)
I'll pocket both the card and book after examining them both.
If Lusillo has noting more, I will start my day with some exercise and perhaps put my new glaive thru its motions, inspired by the glaive dancers of the night before.
Before lunchtime comes, I'll try and see if any Dwarf friends I know are working at the Bank of Abadar or around the Avenue of Arms If I run into them, and they'd like to have lunch at a pub or whatnot, I can catch up with them on their lives, maybe sharing some of my new-found spiritual wisdom.
If nothing else happens, I'll probably return to my cell and read some of the book Lusillo gave me (or other spiritual books I have laying around), pray to Shelyn, and catch some of the simple acolytes' supper before heading to the location Lusillo mentioned on the card.
I gather up my notes and head to the Market.
Dunzeltoff:
It is indeed a Harrow card, but it is of a much higher quality than other decks you've seen. You surmise that it might be a family heirloom of some sort. In a Harrow deck, the Midwife represents the arrival of something (or someone) new. As you examine the card, the script on the back begins to fade and disappear into the geometric design on the back. The card was stuck between two pages of a long sonnet discussing the importance of true beauty coming from within.
After consuming the excellent breakfast that Lusillo shared with you, you go out to the courtyard, where there is just enough room to practice with the glaive.
Jericho:
The smell of fish in various stages of freshness are an ever-present smell in Old Korvosa, and the narrow streets of Old Dock are no different. Regardless, you head over to the Market and to your favorite food stall in it, Garregan's.
Garregan doesn't speak much and respects his patron's privacy in his open air eatery. He's a tall human with a shaved head and multiple perfectly circular scarring on his head and right shoulder. Dark brown eyes accompany a lined, weather-beaten face and he nods at you, bringing over a steaming mug. He's never asked for your name, and certainly isn't in the habit of being generous, but he does know that you've been looking for someone.
"How goes the search?" he says, nodding at your looseleaf notes.
I put the Glaive thru it's swings, but the anger in my heart keeps my motions in the realm of vengeful efficiency rather than divine harmony. I catch the trill of a bird flitting thru the garden, and realizing the butchery of my efforts, cease my unproductive practice, and lay back on a patch of grass to gaze at the clouds passing overhead. I muse about the glaive dancers who performed the previous night, and imagine myself moving with their grace and harmony as a testament to the beauty of Shelyn.
With your attempt at recreating the Glaive Dance unsuccessful and your thoughts turning to the movements of the dancers, you realize that it's already nearing lunchtime. As you leave the Sanctuary, you leave a note with Anshe, the old clerk, letting the Sanctuary know of your whereabouts. The Bank of Abadar is the closest to the Sanctuary, and you head there first.
The Bank of Abadar has few adherents at this time of day, but you notice the Janderhoff Arms flying from a nearby wagon, and you recognize a grief-stricken face belonging to Kenot, Kaltarra's brother.
Gevtodt:
A sleepless night, interspersed with the fitful dreams of the gray and purple-robed Pharasmic cleric intoning a prayer for your brother's soul did nothing to soothe the loss of your brother. Only a week since his death and you can still smell the grave dirt from the Potter's Ward in your nostrils. Long days of your herald duties leave you little time to hunt down Lamm, but you have found out that Monterro was not the only one affected.
Drug use has always been a problem in the poorer sections of Korvosa, but the insidious hallucinogenic dreams caused by the drug called shiver offer an escape from their poverty. This was the poison that Monterro used to escape his guilt, and his sudden end was caused by a bad batch of the milky substance. After pulling a week of duty with no days off, and the grueling duty during the King's Birthday celebrations last night, you have earned a free day, a day which you intend to find Lamm.
The barracks are clean and orderly, as demanded under the keen eyes of your father, and personal mail is delivered early morning. Two pieces of wax-sealed letters sit on top of the sturdy wood and leather chest at the foot of your cot.
umm... I won't try to hide at all. Especially since Toff's stealth sucks, it'd just be worse if it seemed like I was TRYING to hide. Perception (6 or 8 vs. scent) and Diplomacy (13) checks.
...Oh yeah, what about that Know:Local check I made about Lusillo's address? (21)
The address belongs to Zellara's, a fortune teller's shop, in Midland.
Kenot does not seem to notice your arrival. You manage to catch snippets of his conversation, and he seems to be concerned for his father's ill health, which has taken a steady downhill turn since Kaltarra's death. He wishes to consult with a Banker for curative balms for his father.
The other Janderhoff dwarves do notice your approach, however, and they bristle. Word appears to have spread through the dwarven community of the scandalous end of Runegild's daughter.
"Kenot, it seems your sister's killer is here," one of them says. His arms are thick and his skin and beard are covered in fine black dust, and he curls his lip at you. Even though your name was cleared, it doesn't appear that all agree with the magistrate's decision.
Kenot turns to you, his beard-rings clinking against each other. His eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed. You know he was close to his sister, and her loss seems to have hit him just as hard.
Well, a 25 on that Sense Motive check.
Ahoy, stalwart Kenot, I would wish to be seeing you in cheer and good spirits this day, but I think we both still suffer a wound to the heart. But it is important for us who remember beauty and innocence to not succumb to poisons of the soul which would keep us from taking right actions. There is enough poison being spread around by the likes of that Human, Lamm, so I hear. (squeeze my glaive with anguish)
I've been spending some time recently praying and meditating with the priests of Shelyn, trying to understand how such beauty and such pain can co-exist in this world. It has felt like the only way for me to channel my pain and tears to a positive end -- Perhaps it has saved me from turning those poisonous feelings back on myself, even, though that is constantly a struggle. Shelyn teaches us, though, that thru purifying our own heart, Love can live on, overcoming poisonous ashes that may rain upon it's beautiful flowers.
"Pretty much the same," Jericho says, giving the mug a sniff before taking a sip, "Lamm has everyone right terrified. It's amazing that someone as integrated into the underworld as he is rumored to be can be so completely unknown. At least all the petty criminals I've interviewed so far don't seem to have ever heard of him."
He looks around the market with a sigh, "Anything new going on around here?" he asks.
Dunzeltoff:
Kenot is distraught, not from drinking or drugs, but from grief. He turns to you, and the pain in his eyes fills you with a shared anguish. He nods at your words and he lifts his head and shoulders up, taking a shuddering intake of breath.
"Lamm? I've heard that name around, trying to pawn off junk as being from our kin in Janderhoff, but I hear he's slippery as an eel, that one. You think he's the one that got Kal all messed up on that poison?"
He listens to your words about Shelyn and nods. "You may be right, but I'm not ready to let her go yet...and Father is just not the same. He was already in poor health, and losing Kal..." He catches his breath. "Well, he spends a lot of time bedridden."
Jericho:
The distinctive odor of lemons, tea and thileu bark waft towards your nose, and the strong concoction warms you down to your toes on the chilly morning.
Garregan snorts at your comment. "Lamm is a cockroach. The only reason he's still around is because he's too small that the guards don't go after him, but too big for common folk like us to take out, and not quite big enough fish for Blackjack. They probably don't want to say anything because they're scared of him, or the gods forbid, he's got some blackmail on 'em, or even one of their kids as hostage. Tough break," he finishes, and turns away from the black look on your face.
He pours himself a mug of the hot tea and sips it, tearing a loaf of bread in half and giving you the bigger one. "Here, looks like you could use this. As far as this place, nothing new, but that's expected. Same as always, people sleeping off the drink from last night, fishermen trying to head out to catch what they can. However, I got a piece of news you might want to hear."
I'd rather talk to him more away from his aggressive sounding companions, and given my inclination to go on about the divine Beauty of Shelyn, perhaps out of the Bank of Abadar as well.
Saying that we find a pub with booths to talk more privately in,
I inquire more about his father, (Heal check: 10)
Depending on the diagnosis, I might like to pay a care visit to his father, and see if I can help with a Positive Energy burst or cleansing any poisons.
Dunzeltoff:
"Yeah, I could use a pint and some grub," Kenot says. "There's a good place not too far from here, the Three Rings, quiet, good place to talk." He nods at his fellows, who look suspiciously at you as you walk away with Kenot.
The two of you walk south down Sunrise Boulevard to the Three Rings Tavern, a mere five hundred feet from the Bank. Kenot pushes open the door to a trefoil-shaped common room, with a semicircular bar across from the entrance. Warm burnished wood covers the floor and the tables and chairs are worn smooth with use. You walk over to one of the smaller booths in a corner and a halfling waitress, a lass with inky black hair, blue eyes, and a russet-colored dress and apron, hops down from a barstool and walks over to the both of you.
Kenot orders two pints of the house special for the both of you, and the waitress brings back two mugs with foaming heads, along with a sizzling basket. The basket is filled with sweet fried bread, drizzled with honey and sprinkled with cinnamon. Kenot grabs a handful, then tosses it back with a pull from his tankard.
"Father has not been doing well...he caught some sort of infection when coming back from Magnimar. His face is covered in pustules and his skin comes off in sheets. It's all the healers can do to keep the rest of us from getting infected," frowning as he describes the symptoms.
"I want to help you find Lamm...but I can't. Not even for Kal. Father's sickness has put the Runegild business in my hands, and I can't abandon that duty..." He bites his lip and takes another drink. "I came into Korvosa from Janderhoff to sell the silver we mined, and Father's still laid up there. I was hoping the Bank would be able to send somebody more experienced, but they won't without a 'donation.' Damn Abadarans. Can't even get a splinter out of your finger without wanting a copper pinch." He pauses, and his eyes go distant.
"You promise you find this Lamm, and when you do, you give him a swift kick in his jewels for me...No, not for me. For Kal?"
Jericho:
Garregan leans closer to you, and says in a low voice, "I heard he's been seen in Midland, but that's all I got." He turns away and goes to start serving other customers in the stall.
Gevtodt:
As you go through your mail, a blue-backed card falls out between the two envelopes. Gold-gilt edges and backing catch your attention, but the message that appears on the certainly grabs your attention.
"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. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
The writing slowly fades from view, and the opposite side of the card shows the image of a well-dressed cricket with a grinning face, a stack of cards in hand, and leaning up against a peach.
GM Lilith:
Not waiting for sundown Gevtodt heads out immediately towards 3 Lancet street. He uses his clandestine skills to casually case the joint. He tries to see the building from all sides. Once he gets a good layout of the place memorized he finds an out of the way place to hide and watch the front door.
Knowledge Local: (1d20+8=10)
Wisdom check: (1d20-1=11)
Disgues (if needed): (1d20=11) Whoops. Meant Disguises (if needed). ManPig spell bad. NO! Not smell bad. Spell bad!
Stealth (if needed): (1d20+6=22)
Lilith:
I'm glad to be with Kenot in less conflictive circumstances.
And the Three Rings' fry bried and ale is certainly a step up from the Sanctuary.
Word of the elder Runegild's worsening condition strikes a sober note in my heart. I would help the old fellow in any way I could, yet I feel even the wondrous powers Shelyn has bestowed upon me of late are not up to the task.
enot
"You are all the son any dwarven father could want, Kenot, and I would not want you joining me on this mission, for it is certain to be a dangerous one, and it would certainly break Palgrim's heart were he to lose his son now too. Your strength and dedication thru this is what your father needs now, more than vengeance..."
"Indeed, I know the Abadarans are not ones to adjust their rates in face of tragedy... But perhaps I can put in a word at the Sanctuary, even with His Radiance, Lusillo, for the grace of Shelyn is stronger than any disease. Perhaps they'd be willing to help your father now and take payment once he is healthy and can afford the gold... But let me look into this, I can't promise anything."
"And, if his condition allows it, I'd like to pay a visit to your Father after I take care of this business, I haven't seen him since all these troubles, being away in the Sanctuary. I pray that I can find more help for him, as well."
Gevtodt:
The address indicated on the card resides in Midland, near the tavern Bailer's Retreat, and is the home of Zellara, a Varisian fortune teller.
The Cricket represents speed - of mind and body - and is commonly associated with travel. The peach he sits by represents a treasure at the end of your journeys, but sometimes that treasure can be lost and the journey difficult.
Drawing from your personal Harrow deck, which seems like a cheap imitation next to the beautiful gold and blue illuminated card you have. You pull the Rabbit Prince from the deck, a quirky fellow dressed in rakish garb and holding a broken sword. Capricious and battle personified, the Prince's broken sword tells you that any combatant can be felled, no matter how brave or skilled.
With your disguise in place, which has removed any visible sign of your affiliation with the Korvosan Guard, you make your way to Lancet Street through the diverse Pillar Hill ward. The usually crowd of freshly released prisoners from Citadel Volshyenek's jails and off-duty guardsmen congregate outside Bailer's Retreat, and you manage to avoid a scuffle between a drunk and two guardsmen.
Zellara's is a typical townhouse, which normally has the living space on the second floor, and the business on the bottom. All the windows are shuttered close, there is a front entrance and a back entrance. The front door is carved with pale blue-painted butterflies, and "Zellara's" in faded gold. The rear entrance appears to be where the kitchen is - a half-full trash barrel sits near the back door.
Dunzeltoff:
"Thanks Toff," Kenot says. "I know you mean well, and I know Kal's death wasn't your fault...but it's easy to get angry, you know?" He looks grateful at your offer of assistance. "Any help you can get for Father...but I don't know how long - " He stop himself before going any further. "I'm leaving again for Janderhoff next Moonday, so I've got a few days."
You finish your meal with Kenot in shared memories of Kaltarra and return to the Sanctuary. The rest of your afternoon passes without incidence, and you study the book that His Radiance Lusillo gave you earlier.
With dusk rapidly approaching, you head out to Lancet Street for your rendezvous.
GM Lilith
Gevtodt smiles as he recalls drawing the Rabbit Prince. The prince with the broken sword is one of his favorites. That, coupled with the card he “found” in his mail, gives him an inner peace as he settles down and waits for sunset.
As he watches he runs the name Zellara thru his mind. He is sure he has never visited her before. At least he is fairly certain. There was so many…
Gevtodt:
Midland isn't your normal area of duty, so you don't know a whole lot about its more colorful residents, and Zellara doesn't seem to be one one of those. Most fortune tellers in your experience are little more than hucksters trying to get a gold sail or two out of wide-eyed yokels and spoiled aristocratic youths, but there are a few here and there that are the real deal.
OK, going to the rendezvous address, a little early like I said.
Wearing all my 'adventuring' gear.
Dunzeltoff:
You make your way to 3 Lancet Street, home of the fortune teller Zellara, a quiet townhouse with shuttered windows. The front door is dark-stained wood, the door handle polished from years of use. Carved with pale blue-painted butterflies, and "Zellara's" written in a faded gold script, it appears to be locked close.
As you approach the townhouse, you see a figure in a nearby alleyway, cloaked and dirty, watching the surroundings.
Gevtodt:
GM Lilith
Gevtodt perks up.
Jericho nods conspiriatorialy to Garregan and says, "Thanks for the tea."
He drops a couple of coins on the counter - 1 silver for the tea, and a gold.
Tucking his notes away, he heads over to Midland, hoping to find a lead. His hand rests briefly on his scepter. Maybe today he'll get to put a magic missile into his sister's kidnapper.
Gevtodt:
You see a well-dressed dwarf walk onto Lancet Street, and you see him examining Zellara's. He looks around in interest, but he notices you in the alleyway, and the two of you lock eyes.
Dunzeltoff:
The figure in the alleyway locks gaze with you - he's noticed your approach.
Jericho:
As you gather up your notes, a blue-backed playing card with gilt edges falls out of your notes and onto the ground. On the back of it, you see the following note written in a bold script in black 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. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must face his fate, and justice must be done."
The message slowly fades from view. On the face of the playing card you see a centaur with a wide-brimmed hat and carrying a tinker's assortment of goods on his back. Sword, spear, and a gauntleted fist are the centaur's weapons, and a wide smirk appears on his face. In gold-illuminated script at the bottom are the words "The Wanderer."
Lilith:
Was it locked from the inside or with a padlock or something?
Does it seem like the figure was watching ME or the location?
I'm seeing if someone opens up first, and might mention that someone is watching from across the street.
Dunzeltoff:
The figure appeared to be watching the location, not you specifically. There is no answer when you knock. There is keyhole just beneath the door.
GM Lilith
Dunzeltoff:
The figure in the alleyway gives you a curt nod, but continues to watch the building.
Lilith:
I'm hoping someone answers my knocks soon. KNOCK KNOCK.
When I was checking out the rest of the street, was there anyone else 'hanging around'? And what sort of shops/houses are in the area?
Since Lusillo sent me here, I'm not TOO paranoid the dude across the street is going to pump me full of poisoned blowdarts in the next round. :-)
"Hmmmm," thinks Jericho, "This puts a new spin on things."
Jericho heads back to his flat, casts detect magic on the card, refreshes his memorizations, has a nap, takes a bath and gets cleaned up. Then he heads off to the rendezvous, as ready for an ambush as for a meeting.
Dunzeltoff:
You get the impression that the figure in the alley is not a threat to you, but he does seem slightly agitated.
In your earlier examination of the street you did not notice any other figures in alleyways. Most of the street consists of the dual-level home and shops common to Korvosa, and shops range from a carpenter to a tailor to a grocer. There is no answer to your repeated knocks, but you hear the crackle of a hearth fire and the scent of strong incense as you lean closer to the door. You notice that the door is not shut completely, and could open at a mere touch.
Jericho:
Heading back to your flat, you cast your spell upon the card, and you concentrate. Focusing, you see the glimmering aura that tells you the card is indeed magical, and has two auras imbuing it, the strongest being somewhat moderate.
The shared bathing area at your tenement is filled with hanging laundry, but clean, and you enjoy a tepid bath. Gathering your things, you make your way to 3 Lancet Street in Midland.
Matteo:
Last night's King's Birthday celebration was by far one of your favorites, made even more so by the black-haired and ivory-skinned young lady idly sleeping next to you. Waking up slowly, you find yourself in a luxuriously appointed bedroom suite, replete with a spectacular view of the Pantheon of Many, Castle Korvosa, and the Academae. A table set with an assortment of Mwangi fruits and fresh breads stirs your hunger, and the iced wine from last night's repast is gone, replaced with a silver pitcher and goblets. It is only then that you notice the prominent coat of arms on your acquaintance's cloak, which lays over one of the intricately carved and velvet-cushioned divans in the room.
Stretching lazily, but silently, Matteo pads naked across the floor to the table with the inviting food.
Picking up a sweet bloodpear and a still warm roll he looks around the impressive bedchamber.
His eyes wander past the gilted frames of unknown men and women, past the expensive crystal vases, replete with fresh flowers and as he bites into the pear he notices the cloak slung on the divan.
Time seems to come to a standstill as he sees the coat of arms on the cloak, only broken by a drop of bloodred fruitjuice slowly running down his chin.
Matteos:
With a start, you realize the coat of arms belong to House Arkona, one of the wealthiest noble houses in Korvosa. Lord Glorio Arkona, head of the House, rules Old Korvosa in all but name. Growing up in the Bridgefront and Narrows areas of Old Korvosa, you heard whispers that an Arkona agent is behind every theft, black market trade and smuggling operation in Old Korvosa, but they've remained free from intrusion and interference. Palace Arkona dominates the view from every rooftop and Shingle-home in Old Korvosa, and you grew up wondering what strange things it held.
However, waking up with one of the House scions might not be the best way to get a personal tour of the Arkona's seat of power.