Thanks for your kind words. I'll mark this as inactive.
Best wishes to you all.
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Hi all Unfortunately life here has turned pretty crappy and is sapping my time and energy - I need to take a break and refocus. Sorry to do this, but I'm going to have to drop out. I've really enjoyed my time on these boards and it's been a lot of fun. Best of luck to you all, and may the dice gods ever send you a Natural 20 when you most need it. Apologies again.
Hmm, yes - apologies for the ambiguity! You are inside.
Late Afternoon Over a week. Over a week of blisters; of unforgiving road; of endless, endless walking; of sodden, straw-filled mattresses in surly hostels; of constant suspicion and fear of prying eyes. Over a week, too, of one another's constant company. In the end, though, delivering Trinia to the Traveler's Rest inn in Harse, a barely one-horse town was as straightforward as Orisini had promised: Jasan Adriel - Orisini's contact - was waiting for you, with your reward, a purse of 500 in gold. Trinia's heartfelt sobs of gratitude were the only way she could repay you, along with a warm lingering hug and a kiss on the cheek. The last you saw of her, she was wiping her eyes while Adriel gently settled her on his horse before the pair of them rode away. All that was left for you to do was to make the return journey back to Korvosa: more road; more blisters; the same hostels. Finally, however, you arrive outside your home city, its walls and towers and gates standing unchanged from when you left. Some things have clearly changed, however - and not necessarily for the better. Like the armoured woman who heads up the Guard post by the gate; clad all in steel, her words echo with a harsh, metallic ring as she questions all who seek admittance to Korvosa. Like the posters, plastered on every main thoroughfare:
By Decree of Her Royal Majesty, the Radiant Queen Ileosa, all citizens and members of the Korvosan Guard are to aid and admit the newly established order of the Gray Maidens. The Maidens answer directly to the Crimson Throne, and will be called upon as necessary to augment and strengthen the peace where the Korvosan Guard will not suffice. Impeding or distracting the Gray Maidens in the pursuit of their duties is punishable by imprisonment. Impersonating one of the Gray Maidens is punishable by death.
Apologies - had to travel unexpectedly. Back tomorrow, will post something then!
Night The hostel you find is busy, crowded with people on their way to and from Korvosa. Most are human, with the occasional half-elf and half-orc in their midst; to one side, occupying the table in the corner, a party of Kyonin elves sits fastidiously in the common room. Fortunately, nobody seems interested in you - the hostel owner, a dreadlocked Shoanti woman stooped with age, gives you a key to your room and a meal for a few silver and moves on to the next customer. Evelyn:
You do not sleep well. In your dream, you see Trinia Sabor stealthily leaning over the King as he sleeps, pouring poison into his ear; she looks up and sees you watching her and grins horribly, pulling off her face to reveal herself as the Queen, watching from the window as a black-sailed ship pulls into the city's harbour... Juliet:
You do not sleep well. In your dream, you and Elrick are in bed, limbs entwined; as he holds you tenderly afterward, the room melts away and you're back in one of your old shiver-haunts - and the arms wrapped around you are Ladzlo's, rotting with the corruption of the grave, his familiar sleazy grin now the rictus of death... Lorick:
You do not sleep well. In your dream, you are back on the streets of your childhood, long before Lamm, long before all of this - and you are alone, wandering forlorn, looking for someone you know is missing, but you can't remember her name, you can't remember where or why you left her... Tyenar:
You do not sleep well. In your dream, you are in your favourite spot on the roof, engaged in racing over the Shingles with Trinia Sabor, as Timmor and Ander watch, cheering you on; but something is wrong, the boys' faces are pocked with disease, and in their piping voices is the leer of the grave... Xenia: You do not sleep well. In your dream, you are working with Tivera in Petrivar's tattoo parlour; the Queen and her handmaiden, Sabina Merrin, have walked in - they pull Tivera into their embrace, smiling as her skin turns to steel, her screams locked behind a metal mask...
Trinia gives Evelyn a sympathetic look: "I've never been outside the city either; I will miss it - especially the rooftops. There's nothing like the thrill of bounding across The Shingles, knowing that whatever is happening far below can't affect you... when you're up there, the wind blowing through your hair, there's nothing you can't outrun! Or so I used to think, anyway. Did you ever try it?" Despite Xenia's misgivings, you manage to travel along the road without attracting undue attention: any would-be reward claimants are looking for a girl on her own, not someone accompanied by friends. With her hood up they would have trouble picking Trinia out of a crowd, even without her disguise. You have a long way to travel though: as Orisini stated, the town of Harse is 60 miles from Korvosa. On foot, that's a 3-day journey. Fortunately, there are inns along the route: the road to Korvosa is well-travelled. With luck, you should just get lost amid your fellow hostellers. With luck.
Apologies for the slow posting - having to clear up (someone else's) mess at work. Should be back to posting properly tomorrow morning.
The Sergeant's eyes glaze over about eight words into Xenia's story. "Next!" In no time at all, you're through the gate, outside the city. Trinia looks at the rest of you with disbelief and a broad grin; once the walls of Korvosa are lost from sight, she gives each of you an impulsive hug, her eyes brimming with tears. "I can never repay you for that."
Trinia gives you all a grateful look. "Thank you. I'm in your hands." She looks at Evelyn. "What do you propose?" ...
Late Afternoon The first part of the escape journey is uneventful: a slow walk through the city down to High Bridge and then up to Dwarfwalk Road, mingling with the afternoon’s merchants leaving the city. Groups of guards (who now bear crimson tunics to proclaim their allegiance to the new queen), Hellknights and mercenaries patrol the streets. The patrols cast sidelong glances at you; as you get closer to the gate, they become more frequent, the stares more lingering. Even disguised, Trinia sinks deeper into the shadow of her cowled cloak; to try and make the time pass more quickly, she starts conversations, with questions both aimless and probing: who you are, how you came to know Orisini, what do you do for fun, that sort of thing. She asks nothing about your role in taking down Gaedren Lamm, and reveals little about herself. Travelling on foot in this way, you reach the gate. Every cart, every wagon, is being searched. Foot passengers - particularly those travelling alone - are keenly scrutinised. Finally, it is your group's turn. The 5-man Guard duty stationed at the gate looks bored, but their sergeant (whom you don't recognise) fixes you with a long stare. "State your business."
Trinia looks at you all dubiously, before taking the vial from Tyenar and sniffing it cautiously. "Hmm." She suddenly grins, boyishly. "Here goes nothing!" Tipping the contents into her mouth, her outline blurs for a couple of seconds, before emerging as... an identical copy of Evelyn. Staring into a mirror, she pats herself down, cautiously. "Ah. I see it really is just the appearance that changes." The voice is not Evelyn's, but it has the identical tone, the same street-bred twang, that Evelyn has. It would take a skilled listener to tell them apart. Her form wavers again, this time becoming Xenia. "Fascinating. I wonder how this is done." Again, the tone and intonations are an almost exact mimic of the part-Shoanti girl. She looks at you. "Acting is part of my trade - on which note..." she morphs again, into Juliet this time. She winks at the fencer: "Not gonna try your voice, it'd be too tricky - 'slike you took all your education and breeding and ground it into the cobbles of the streets." She leers, slightly; still in Juliet's face. "Bet the posh boys love you..." Turning away suddenly, Trinia changes again, settling on a non-descript Chelish face, dressed in garb that could belong to any serving-girl in any establishment in Korvosa. She smiles. "How long does this last?"
No to limited magic, nobody liked it.
"Also...I've been working on the last weeks on a way to make my potions work on people without provoking copious amounts of internal bleeding." Trinia looks disbelieving. "C'mon - you want me to drink something, you're gonna have to do better than that!" She shudders. "Copious amounts of internal bleeding... - I'm not sold on this idea, you know?" EDIT: Juliet would know that the Guard aren't going to worry too much about what people leaving the city are carrying, and some sort of weaponry for self-defence would be expected.
"I'm not going to be any good with a horse, either," Trinia admits. "Put me on the roofs of the city though and it's another story..." Orisini sighs. "Alright. Forget the horses. They'd probably draw attention anyway. But it will take you longer to get there and back." Juliet:
The Guard are pretty famously incorruptible. It's not universally true (see: Vancaskerkin, Verik) but you'd have to be very lucky, or know exactly who to talk to - and you don't. Also, the Jeggare's a bit too fast-flowing for ferries; and the Guard have catapults to take down any potentially hostile boats. Lorick:
There are less-obvious ways out of the city, but people who use them go alone - a group trying to get through the sewers would be noticed, for example. Tyenar: There are hundreds - literally - of people moving through the gates and across the bridge out of Korvosa every day. No way are the Guard going to have more than a few seconds to check you out, assuming you don't draw attention to yourselves.
Orisini chuckles good-naturedly at Lorick's remarks. "That's good to hear; that level of disillusionment doesn't normally set in until much older. I should hate to see it blossom too early." He then looks at Tyenar. "I can supply you with horses and sustenance for the journey. I plan on sending Trinia to Harse - it's a small town some 60 miles from here - there's a chap I know at the inn there; the imaginatively-named Travelers' Rest. He knows people in the ranches thereabouts, they're a fine place to be lost when the authorities want you." His eyes twinkle. "Not that I would know about such things, of course." He turns serious again. "The man you're looking for is named Jasan Adriel. Tell him that Vencarlo sent you and he'll know what that means. As for leaving Korvosa, I would suggest that less is more; the authorities will be on the lookout for anything blatant, like magic." Trinia looks at you all, her green eyes alight with gratitude - and curiosity. "Vencarlo's told me about you, how you stormed Eel's End and took down Gaedren Lamm when nobody else would - I'm sure if anyone can get me away safely, it's you."
Just waiting for a decision from Tyenar, but otherwise I think everyone is up for helping ? (Refusing to help is fine, BTW. This isn't a railroad.)
Knock yourself out.
If any of you can hit a Sense Motive DC of more than 35, let me know. Spoiler: It's the same as for DC 35
Trinia looks back at Tyenar, calmly holding his gaze. Her voice, when she speaks, is soft, at least as quiet as the sylph's. "You've no reason to help me, or to trust me; but I just want to say, if our positions were reversed, I would help you." Sense Motive DC 10:
Her voice has the ring of total honesty. Sense Motive DC 15:
Her voice has the ring of total honesty. Sense Motive DC 20:
Her voice has the ring of total honesty. Sense Motive DC 25:
Her voice has the ring of total honesty. Sense Motive DC 30:
Her voice has the ring of total honesty. Sense Motive DC 35:
Her voice has the ring of total honesty. Orisini looks proudly at her, before transferring his gaze to Juliet - perhaps reading her expression. "I meant it about the fencing lessons. If you are interested, we can take them up once this little escapade is concluded, perhaps?" It's like it's Lamms all the way up he says almost to himself. Orisini has sharp hearing. His look directed at the strongman is even sharper. "Tell me in truth, did Lamm ever ask for help, or give it, freely? Of all I heard of him, that would be the most far-fetched story." The silver-haired swordsman shakes his head. "Be cautious, yes. Be careful in whom you place your trust, yes. But do not assume, young one, that everyone is like Lamm - do not think the worst of everyone. Or you will become another Lamm, eventually: doing nothing but for your own advantage."
Trinia looks across at Evelyn, giving the girl a quick, grateful smile; while Orisini raises an eyebrow at Lorick's remarks. "For much the same reason as you took down Gaedren Lamm, I would imagine: if you don't do something about that injustice, then who will?" He sighs. "You remind me of Grau Soldado, and the arguments we used to have. But no matter. Perhaps your companions see things otherwise." He looks quizzically at Juliet, Tyenar and Xenia, awaiting their response.
He's had a pretty big life event since then..... Mwhahahahaha- I mean, condolences on your loss. It's not going to be a sticking point really as he's at loose ends. Just needs to talked around a bit. The Guard association is a solid thing he's hanging on to is all. It's cool, it all adds to the creative tension. It'd be terribly dull if every PC was like, "By golly, this world needs fixing - and I'M the one to do it!"
This must be a new Lorick, as I seem to recall the old one had to be talked into signing up with the Queen and the Guard in the first place...
If by "working for the Queen and the Guard" you mean "using the cloak of officialdom to enact your own agenda against Gaedran Lamm under the guidance* of a phantom fortune-teller" then yes. Tomayto, tomahto... *Guidance which is still - in its own cryptic way - ongoing, BTW (Evelyn)
A few moments after Juliet's call, the door opens and Orisini beckons you in, quietly. The silver-haired swordsman looks unusually solemn. "My thanks for replying so swiftly to my somewhat cryptic note." Leading you down the hall, past the gym and training hall, he opens the door to his study and ushers you in. The windows are tightly shuttered and curtained, and the room is lit only by a candle. The air has a conspiratorial feel, although that might just be the stuffiness and dust: Orisini isn't much of a scholar and the books clearly don't get read very often. "You'll forgive me I hope when I say that the note was a ruse: while I am happy to provide lessons, it was not my main intent. I have an important task that requires people I can trust. I hope that is you. Would you come in, my dear?" This last is a call out into the corridor; the door quietly opens and a familiar figure sidles in. It's Trinia Sabor, the artist turned assassin(?) turned fugitive. Wearing simple traveling clothes, she holds a wide-brimmed rider’s hat and a wig of long red curls. Trinia appears nervous and excited, and gives you a weak smile. Orisini bids you to sit, but remains standing as he speaks. “You were all at the queen’s debacle, so I don’t doubt you recognize this charming young woman. I had only just reached my home the night of Her Majesty’s morbid gala when that troublemaker Blackjack and this startled woman arrived at my doorstep. The so-called “people’s hero” and I have had some dealings in the past, but it’s been some years since I’ve seen the scoundrel." He scowls, and then smiles slightly. "He was quick with his words and soon swooped off, doubtlessly to right some other festering wrong, but not before entrusting Miss Sabor to my protection and care. Although I don’t know Blackjack’s motives or politics, I trust his judgment and have seen much right done by his blade. He says Miss Sabor is innocent of the crime she’s been accused of, and I’m more disposed to trust a hero of the city than the tantrums of some bloody-minded child playing at queen." He looks at you. “The matter is simple: Korvosa is no longer safe for Miss Sabor. I’ve arranged for friends in Harse — a couple of well-respected ranchers — to take in our beautiful renegade until this whole ‘assassination’ foolishness blows over. It’s the first leg of the journey where we find our problem, though. Ever since the queen’s put a price on her head, mercenaries, soldiers, and the Guard have been searching for the young lady tirelessly. They’ve stopped by here three times so far, and each time I’ve only just barely been able to turn them away without inviting a search." "My most reliable contacts have gone to ground in light of the recent uprisings, and Her Highness’s bounty for Trinia’s capture makes the use of new agents inadvisable. Thus, after some time to let her trail cool, I turned to you resourceful lot." He flashes a grin, white teeth gleaming. "Care to escort a lady home?”
Yeah, I've only just got back online myself.
Evelyn - see above.
Depends on whether Juliet came and got you (which she did) and whether you decided to tag along (up to you)
And we're off again! Sincere apologies for the delay. Hope you all had a good break.
Afternoon Orisini Academy is located at 16 Hillcrest Street, which is near the center of Old Korvosa. Signs of the more recent unrest are everywhere: Old Korvosa is poorly policed at best (despite Kroft's efforts) and the graffiti that have elsewhere been washed away still remain on the walls here, proclaiming sentiments as violent as they are unoriginal. Most shops are open, although their windows are boarded up or otherwise reinforced. A simmering sentiment of resentment hangs in the air, generally unfocused but nonetheless clearly there; just waiting the right moment - or person - to focus and direct it. A sign hanging from the front door reads “Classes Cancelled Today.”
I'm so sorry for the radio silence: I went away for Christmas thinking "oh, no problem, I'll have phone access and even my relatives have now installed wifi" - but what I overlooked (and I'm embarrassed to confess this) is that yes, the rules are all online, but the AP module isn't - and it's kind of hard to run an AP without the frikkin book. Amateur hour.
I'm pausing before moving on to the next scene with Orisini because we've just had 2 weeks of downtime and although I'm not using the downtime rules as such (for reasons why, see the spoiler below), if there's anything you want to do in that space, let me know. Spoiler: Pretty much everything in Korvosa ends up burned or trashed, and that would certainly include any businesses etc that you started. I don't want to see you invest all that effort in something that the railroad plot would just demolish - I'm not that kind of DM. No, really.
The letter is slipped under Juliet's door before she's fully awake, delivered by a courier eager to return and get their pay for services. It simply reads: My dear, I hope this note finds you in good health in these dangerous times. In light of the recent unrest, I feel that I could provide some tips on self-defense to adventurers such as you and your companions, and would be most gratified to meet with you for these lessons, offered gratis, at Orisini Academy, 16 Hillcrest Street. I eagerly await your arrival. Vencarlo Orisini
Despite Juliet's best efforts to be conspicuous, the general chaos of the scene, together with the crowds, mean that you are easily able to slip away. The weeks following the botched execution and escape sees a return, although a sporadic one, to the unrest that followed the news of the King's death. It is fair to say that Queen Ileosa, whatever her good qualities, does not have the common touch. Graffiti proclaiming Death to the Whore Queen is daubed on walls throughout the rougher areas of town, and shops in the nicer areas are periodically vandalised if they are thought to be offering wares or services that are sympathetic to the royal cause. More worryingly, the Seneschal of Korvosa, Neolandus Kalepopolis, one of the key roles in the politics of the city (and the only person with legal power to put the Queen's wishes in check) has still not reappeared. Queen Ileosa proclaims a 5,000 gp bounty on each of Blackjack, Trinia Sabor - and the Seneschal, asserting that he is by his absence proving his guilt. Some of the nobility protest this, claiming that nobody can be condemned without trial. Those who pay attention to such matters will note that the Queen's actions have united two warring factions against her: the reactionary nobles, led by House Carowyn, whose concern is to jealously guard the privileges of nobility (like not being condemned without trial); and the would-be reformers, led by Vencarlo Orisini, who consider that the true duty of nobility is to try and better the lot of the commoners and generally act with justice. The reactionaries and reformers loathe one another, and the old King had the skill to play them off against each other, but both are united in opposing the Queen's sentence against the Seneschal without trial. Grudgingly, Ileosa drops the reward against him. Of course, most of this politicking passes the common people by, concerned as they are with simply getting through this tumultuous time. All they can do is hope that tomorrow will be a little better than today...
That is awesome! The game world needs more GMs. I've been gaming and DMing for 30-ish years now, and I still don't have it right. The following represents a quick and dirty distillation of some random thoughts about what helps me. Ignore and discard at will. Rule One: remember that you - and your players - are in this to have fun. Rule Two: your players are capable of doing both head-deskingly stupid and jaw-droppingly awesome things, sometimes in the same post. Be prepared to roll with it and improvise. Rule Three: start small, and simple. If the story spirals, or stalls, take a step back and try and get everyone moving back towards the original goal. Handwaving of the boring stuff is perfectly acceptable. Rule Four: never, ever, ever, forget Rule One. All the best!
Tyenar's warning reaches Blackjack's ears at about the same time as Juliet's dagger thunks into the executioner's other foot, making him scream and drop the axe completely. Xenia's magic, blinding dust only adds to his confusion. Taking advantage of the opportunity provided, Blackjack ducks neatly out of the man's way, dragging Trinia with him. He clambers up a hanging banner to a nearby wall, hauling Trinia up behind him. As the two reach the wall, he swiftly drinks a potion and bows to the crowd while backlit by the setting sun. His rapier flashes in salute to you in particular, acknowledging your assistance. Then both he and Trinia leap from the wall to make their escape into the city. Chaos and confusion reign in the crowd; but with the spectacle over, and a rush of guards descending from all directions, the more sensible ones decide to head for home.
The girls innocent so we should probably do something right? Who among you knows that for sure?
Sorry, long posts there! Lots to try and wrap up.
...before suddenly crying out in pain as a hurled dagger embeds itself in the back of his hand. As the executioner’s grip on Trinia falters, a cry echoes through the crowded courtyard: “By the gods! It’s Blackjack!” Beside you, Kroft (who has taken the whole Trinia Sabor affair very badly) stiffens and lets out a hiss of disbelief. But the cry appears to be accurate: a mere instant later, a dark menacing figure dressed in a hooded cloak and black mask springs up to Trinia’s side. Using a dagger, he cuts the bonds on Trinia’s wrists and then throws the same dagger down to pin the executioner’s left foot to the wood platform, before turning to address the shocked crowd. “Yes indeed, my queen! Let us usher in justice, but let that be justice for Korvosa, not this shambles you call a monarchy! Long live Korvosa! Down with the queen!” The crowd erupts into action: there are shouts, clamours for reform, clamours for Blackjack to release the assassin, some calls to execute everyone, some demanding the Queen's abdication. Queen Ileosa herself stands in stunned silence for a few moments, before fleeing back into Castle Korvosa. Kroft looks at you, looks at the platform, before swallowing hard and doing her duty, hurrying along with the Queen to prevent harm from coming to her. As she hurries off, the Field-marshal calls over her shoulder "I trust you not to mess this up!" The remaining guards in the courtyard move to apprehend Blackjack, but the gathered nobles, thirsty for blood, make it difficult to move. At the same time, the executioner recovers from his wounds and lifts his axe over Blackjack, who seems to have momentarily forgotten the man in his apparent delight at having forced the queen to flee...
The week since Lamm's death has been full of incident, although not for you; you have managed to snatch a brief respite from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Lorick:
Lorick is taken in hand by the newly-rescued Miyoto; sensing that the younger man is still deep in grief, he puts Lorick through intensive, gruelling exercises that leave him utterly drained - but able to sleep once he finally crawls into bed. Evelyn:
Evelyn finds a range of properties that might be suitable for her intentions; from large, rooftop-type apartments through to tenements through to smaller town houses.
Others across the city are not so lucky; and the artist Trinia Sabor has been perhaps the least fortunate of all. Captured the same night as Lamm was taken down, she was dragged off to the palace where - after only a little encouragement - she tearfully confessed everything and was sentenced to public execution. All of you have invited by Kroft to attend, which means you get to stand in relative comfort, not pressed in by the crowds. It also means that - like it or not - you get a good view of what is coming. It seems that anyone who is anyone is there, either because they want to see the death of the assassin who caused all this anarchy; or they want to be seen to be loyal to the Queen; or because a public execution is a good day's entertainment. Whatever their reasons, the toast of Korvosa is in attendance in garish gowns, fine capes, and enough jewels to blind the
Queen Ileosa emerges amid a great flourish and pomp as heralds announce her arrival with a fanfare of music and drums. She has fully accepted the mantle of sole monarch now, and carries herself with poise, style, and grace. She wears a green and white silk dress worth thousands of gold coins and is attended by a small army of striking guards. Ileosa takes her seat in a high throne-like chair at one end of the public courtyard, while a chopping-block stands ominously at the other. The executioner is a towering, muscular man wearing an executioner’s hood and idly holding an immense axe. As an ominous drum beating begins, the gawkers fall silent. The drum sets the pace for Trinia’s procession to the executioner’s block. As they reach the block, a guard removes Trinia’s shackles and the hood, revealing a very frightened woman who bravely holds back her tears. Trinia is led up to stand before the chopping-block, her arms bound behind her back by a leather cord as Queen Ileosa addresses the crowd. The Queen's voice carries effortlessly. "Fellow Korvosans! You have suffered greatly these past few weeks. Homes have burned, family members have died, and fortunes have been lost. I feel your suffering, for not only have I lost a beloved husband, but with each act of anarchy that followed, my heart bled more. This has been a trying time for us, yet the torment is at an end. Before you is the source of your anguish and pain. Do not be deceived by this murderer’s timid nature: she is a black-hearted assassin. I offer you her death as a salve against the hatred and hurt you have suffered." “And so, without further delay, let us usher in this new dawn with justice! OFF WITH HER HEAD!” OOC:
The black-hooded executioner takes hold of Trinia, pushing her down to kneel in front of the chopping-block...
So... you're just going to leave Lorick to cry? Sounds good, DMD! Ah. I think you have me confused with my evil twin. It's true that we're never seen in the same room together, but they're nothing like me. At all. Trust me.
Ok - I'm having a busy week so far so I'll get us into Book 2 on Saturday.
OK, waiting on what people are doing here.
No problems, time is out of joint for now; part of the issue with PbP is both keeping things moving while giving players time to participate. If you want to 'go back' and post at the funeral, go for it. I'll tidy up once we move on.
Get well soon! I posted a funeral for the Toilday (mostly for Lorick's benefit, but anyone can attend); we'll regroup there.
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"You have to admit you've remained somewhat of an enigma." The fortune-teller raises a ghostly eyebrow. "Really, dear? I thought it was a characteristic of an enigma not to admit to anything." Her image starts to dissolve back into mist, her voice growing fainter, until it is just an echo in Evelyn's head: I showed you that image for a reason, dear, so bear it in mind; but my reasons are my own... __________________
Ricci, it is fair to say, looks horribly embarrassed; he takes his hat from off his head and starts wringing it in his hands. His eyes don't meet Juliet's, or those of the other performers. "We've been closed every night for two weeks. Two weeks! I don't have the money to tide over that long - I missed too many payments, and the Church finally called it in... I had to tell them I've no idea when we'd be up and running again." He looks miserable. "They offered to buy up my stake in this building - I'd no idea they were going to shut it down! You have to believe me..." Svetalta looks ready to spit, and the others don't look any more sympathetic. "So that fat arse of a priest is telling us he doesn't owe us anything, and at the same time you're getting a payout?!" Ricci splutters. "It's - it's not like that! Don't you understand? I'm ruined! I've barely enough to live on, and I'm going to have to crawl back to my family in Westcrown - I'll never be able to show my face here again!" This approach, strangely enough, doesn't win him any sympathy. There's a certain amount of jeering.
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The pudgy-faced priest sneers. "I neither know nor care who you are. And since you seem to think in the low thousands, I rather doubt anyone of note in my church gives the slightest thought to you. Let me assure that if it were a matter of a simple 2,000 I would have left this matter to a peon." Ricci flushes scarlet, clearly unwilling to say anything in the presence of this man. __________________
Zellara raises an eyebrow. "Dear, you called on me. I am, or was, a fortune-teller; I'm not sure what you were expecting from me, if not to show visions..."
There's something incongruous about a funeral on a bright Spring morning. Last night's storm blew over, leaving shining cobbles and gleaming roof slates and pure, dazzling sunshine that streams in through the bright stained glass windows of the Cathedral of Pharasma; beams of sunlight pick out the dancing dust motes. True to his word, Father Gellantara has alloted Sia the full Pharasmin rites: not for her a few hasty orisons and the paupers' grave. Wrapped in white linen, her body rests in front of the great altar as the priests slowly, reverently, pronounce the great prayers and anoint her with holy water and preserving balms. To the Pharasmins, death is not an end but a beginning, and their music reflects that: not for them the mournful dirges or militaristic rhythms of other religions; instead, their plainsong chants reflect the grief of the living, but are overshot with high, soaring song, reflecting the ethereal hope of the soul set free. At the front of the choir the novice, Sura, sings the soprano role, her face alight with devotion as she effortlessly hits the top notes, making the vast Cathedral ring with both lamentation and praise. Afterward, four priests carry Sia's body to the fresh-dug grave and reverently lower her in as Father Gellantara says the final prayer, the words so familiar that they barely register: "...where O Death is thy sting...where, O grave, thy victory?..." And then, a silence, for those who wish to say something to be able to speak. OOC:
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"Hello, dear. I thought I might be hearing from you." The fortune-teller rises up out of the cards, and peers around your hut. Sighing, she draws up a comfortable chair out of nowhere and plumps herself into it. "I'd offer you one, too, dear, but..." she gives a slight chuckle. "You're wondering what comes next, am I right? Well, dear, there are some things I'm not allowed to tell you; and some things I'm not supposed to tell you. But I'm afraid I never was any good with rules. Let's start with one of those." She gestures, and a roiling cloud of smoke appears between the two of you, condensing into an illusory view of a cellar, with an obviously terrified young woman hiding in it. The door above bursts open, and a troop of armoured figures, their black plate graven with fiendish images, hurries down the stairs and drags the silently-screaming girl away. The smoke dissipates and vanishes. Zellara takes a sip from a steaming cup, which vanishes when she puts it down. "Poor dear. That was Trinia Sabor, who will be arrested later tonight, in about... 10 minutes or so. No, there's nothing you can do, dear. She's innocent, in case you were wondering, but the Queen needs justice now - can't have poisoners going around unpunished. Sets a bad example. And no, dear, I'm really not allowed to tell you who the real poisoner was. You wouldn't recognise the name, anyway." She shakes her head. "A sorry business all round." __________________
The priest-lawyer smiles. "Why, my dear, even assuming I were in the position of having to explain myself to someone so... impertinent I've not been introduced to, I am doing something. It just so happens that what I want to do, and what the law permits me to do, are perfectly aligned. I am closing down this wretched place - Master Ricci here is in default of his debts and is selling his interest in his... little venture to the church. I have no use for frivolous singers and my business here is concluded. So, if you will excuse me..." He moves towards the door, apparently unconcerned that Juliet is blocking it. Attacking, or hindering, a priest of Abadar is just as bad an idea now as it was when Svetalta was considering it.
The door swings open at Juliet's push, and she finds herself witnessing an argument. On the one side: a priest of Abadar, garbed in the gold silk of an apostle-advocate; his fleshy jowls wobble as he speaks in soft tones, apparently on behalf of Ricci and the church. He is in the middle of explaining that yes, in fact, by virtue of the contract, the church does now own Ricci's assets - and that no, the church has not inherited any of Ricci's liabilities. His greasy voice has an air of satisfaction as he points this out. OOC:
On the other side: the singers and performers who have worked at Ricci's and are currently being told that they won't be getting any of the pay they're owed. They are being spoken for by a visibly angry Svetalta Mirukova, who looks like she is torn between spitting at the apostle-advocate's feet, or lamping him one on the jaw. Neither course of action would be wise. Albert Ricci himself is strangely silent, subdued; unwilling to stand up to the priest or get involved in the dispute, his eyes roam around the room, avoiding eye contact - which is why he notices the door open (the others haven't spotted Juliet yet). He looks at her pleadingly, as if willing her to just turn around and pretend she was never here.
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