Frasides eyes the room with some speculation, glancing at the tapestries and chairs.
"Curiouser and curiouser," he mumbles. "What's the note say, Cole?"
Cole grabs a seat at one of the high-backed chairs and replies "Whoever set this up should be here shortly, there's some bread and drink in the basket. Personally, I'm going to hold off, at least until we meet our host." He'll pull the basket on the table and wait for the others.
"Well, it would be rude to eat while he's making his big speech," Simn said, taking a seat and helping himself to some bread. If their host had provided snacks for them to eat while they waited, far be it from him to go hungry.
Claiming a cup for himself, Avalon nods his agreement and settles back to wait.
Pat:
Leliestraat walks slowly through the incense-shrouded haze and into the room of eccentric and grotesque design. Noting the bestial and angelic figures woven into the tapestries and the scent of flora in the air, the elf strides over to the table to takes a seat at the tall chairs.
With a lengthy glance at the note and the writing itself, Leliestraat overlooks the bread in favor of the wine and drinks.
Gawain paces the room, examining the artwork on the walls closely. Some of it is strangely moving.
"So," Simn says at length, "What cards did you all get? I got the fool," he produces the card by way of proof of this statement. Having such a card doesn't seem to bother him in the least. Although it might have had he thought their host had selected it deliberately, Simn believes the cards had been drawn randomly.
He makes a mental note to find out from somebody knowledgeable in such matters what the Fool represents. Apart from the obvious, that is. After all, one should never dismiss a reading out of hand.
"So," Simn says at length, "What cards did you all get? I got the fool," he produces the card by way of proof of this statement.
Frasides gives him a bemused look - picturing in his mind the gnomish fellow in a jester's hat juggling for just a moment - before answering. He stares down at his card seeing the bandaged man with a ghostly figure whispering in his ear. His thoughts turn towards fears of his sister's fate; of dark happenings.
He shakes off his momentary rumination, and answers, "The Survivor. I don't know if our host intended each card to have meaning for each of us specifically." He gives pause to his words, and then continues with some restlessness, "We need to get this thing underway."
Reaching into his pocket, Cole pulls out his Harrow card and shows it to the group, it is The Winged Serpent. It shows a white serpent with a green head and rainbow wings, curled upon itself.
"Perhaps one of you is more skilled than I at reading the premonition's of this card?" Cole asks, as he returns the card to his pocket "I'm with you Fraz, I sure hope our host appears soon. All this waiting's making me anxious."
"My card was The Theater. It looks just like that sign out front," Gawain says, producing the card. "But I, too, begin to wonder where our host is."
"my own card was The Big Sky, although whether this is a good or bad thing I do not know myslef."
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At this point, the door opens and an attractive, middle-aged Varisian woman with long dark hair enters. She smiles at the assembled group.
"Good evening. I am Zellara, and this is my home. I want to thank you all for coming. Please, all of you, have a seat. Though I know whom you all are, you may not know each other. Have you introduced yourselves?"
Zellara moves to the side of the table without a chair and produces a Harrow deck from her pocket and idly shuffles the cards. Her skill with the deck is obvious to anyone who watches how the cards seem to float and dance over her hands and the table.
“Thank you for coming, my friends, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you. I have reason to remain hidden, you see—a terrible man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This is a man you know, for he has done something terrible to each of you as well. I speak, of course, of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched only by his gift for avoiding reprisal. You see, a year ago, his thieves stole my Harrow deck from me. It is important to me, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, and also my sole means of support. When pickpockets stole it, my son, Eran, tracked them down. The thieves were in the employ of Gaedren Lamm, and in reward for finding them, Gaedren murdered my son.
“I sought help from the Guard, but they turned me away. And so I asked around. I paid bribes. I consulted my Harrow deck for advice. And recently, I was rewarded—I found out where Gaedren dwells. He can be found in an old fishery north of here at Westpier 17, where he trains his abducted children to be pickpockets and counts his stolen treasures.
“And now, I need your help. I cannot hope to face this man on my own, and the Guard moves so slowly that if I were to go to them, Gaedren would certainly know of their coming well in advance. Even if they did arrest him—what guarantee would I have he would be punished? This criminal has evaded the law for decades. But you know of these frustrations as well, for word on the street has it that Gaedren has wronged each of you, too. So there we are. It is time for him to pay.”
She waits expectantly.
Coles face blanches as the woman mentions the training of the abducted children, his mind racing back to his own days under Gaedran and remembers the horrors those children are facing. Tears well up in his as he speaks "M'lady, if you offered all the treasure of all the nobles in the city you would not have given me as great a gift as you currently are. I know your frustration well and I would gladly help you if it sees that fiend pay for his crimes. I am sorry for your loss and can only promise you that I will do my best to see him avenged"
Zellara's tale strikes a cold blow along Frasides back, and thoughts of what might be happening to his sister creep into his mind. He grips the chair's armrest so tightly he might break it off, especially as she relates Lamm's whereabouts.
"I have reason to believe that Lamm has my sister captive; possibly working as one of his thieves or servants by now. For your son, my sister, and others I would track this man down and see him pay. If something worse has happened to her, you can be assured I'll bring you his head if I have my way. You have my support."
Leliestraat listens as Cole and Frasides relate their woeful tales and pledges of assistance and watches the Varisian master of the Harrow with interest and curiosity. Drawing his own card, The Joke, and its strange image, from his garments, the elf places the card on the table and draws another sip of wine.
“I am Leliestraat,” the elf begins, tracing a finger along the edges of The Joke. “If those tales of misery were not sufficient to motive me, ... as I suspect they are, ... I have my own resentment of Lamm and desire to revenge myself.”
"I will aid you in what ways that I can,” he offers. "But can you first tell me the significance of this card, Zellara?”
Simn nods grimly at the end of Zellara's speech, "The more I learn of the man, the more I see his capacity to steal away the hopes and dreams of others and replace them with his own hollowness," he says, "I would aid you in this even if I didn't have a personal stake. As it is..." he smiles that slightly worrisome smile peculiar to gnomes, "Did anybody else have plans for this evening?"
"I'm very sorry about your son," Gawain says softly. "I, too, have lost a loved one by Lamm's hand, and I would give all I have and more to see him get what he deserves. May I ask, how long ago did you lose your son?"
"It is indeed a sad day when the law fails the people. I will do whatever I can to assist in taking down this scoundrel!"
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Zellara smiles sadly. "Thank you -- I knew you were the people to aid me, but would that it were not at the cost of so much misery to yourselves and your loved ones."
"I will aid you in what ways that I can,” he offers. "But can you first tell me the significance of this card, Zellara?”
"Ah, the Joke. It shows a terror that must be overcome -- but not by physical means. This monster can only be defeated by trickery or artifice. In addition to the value of the mind, it also can represent the value of humor in finding the way past a difficult person or task.
"Again, I thank you all for your willingness to aid me. I do not have money, but perhaps you will accept a Harrowing from me? Often times the cards can provide insight in times of stress."
"Of course," Simn says simply, "A little insight is nothing to be sneezed at." He's not particularly bothered one way or another; the future generally takes care of itself. But given the seriousness of his current endeavour, anything that provides an edge could well be worth using.
“I, too, would appreciate what guidance we might gain from your cards, Zellara,” Leliestraat answers, draining his cup of wine.
Slipping The Joke into his garments, the elf waits for their host’s prophecy.
"I would not accept payment for this task even if you offered it Zellara, in fact it is I who feel indebted to you." Cole says to their host.
Frasides is a bit torn, and he has a puzzled look on his face. It's clear he wants to act now on this information, but there's a hesistancy to act abruptly with their host.
"Madam , as Cole has said, your information is sufficient. I wouldn't ask payment to help you; but I'll admit that I am impatient to get underway."
"Still, I will take whatever counsel you give...even if it be by fortune telling. Do you have need of this?"
This last part comes as he reveals his card to her. "The Survivor, I wonder what that might portend? It's meaning seems chillingly clear to me right now, but I'm no expert."
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Zellara accepts the card from Frasides with thanks. "The Survivor represents a person who has been through an ordeal of some kind. The man represents someone or something thought lost forever, but found once more. It can also represent rebirth."
She then sorts out nine cards from the deck. "I think the suit we will use for the Choosing will be the Keys -- they represent issues relating to trouble, but also to children. Fair here, yes?" She spreads nine cards face-down on the table and invites each of you to select one and show it. "This is the Choosing -- it represents your role in what is to come."
Leliestratt draws The Crows. It shows three ragged but armored men wearing crows' masks, one with wings, surrounding a table filled with coin. "The Crows indicate a violent taking of that which is loved -- does that mean something to you? I fear it is not a good omen -- you will suffer or witness some kind of loss."
Simn draws The Dance. One of the simpler drawings, it shows a woman, a dervish, dancing while holding a scepter, and surrounded by globes as if orbited, one green, one blue, one red. "The Dance is a rich and delicate framework that requires everyone within it to abide by its rules, lest the entire construct collapse. Stay in perfect step, and know your place in the greater good."
Frasides draws The Cricket. It shows a grig, a fey, shuffling cards with a tiny rapier stuck into a piece of fruit beside him. "The Cricket represents speed and quick passage. The peach may signal a treasure at the end of your travels."
Avalon draws The Avalanche. It shows the destructive power of an avalanche in the form of an enormous elemental, grabbing up everything in its path. Zellara draws in her breath. "This is disaster -- an unthinking, unreasoning thing that overruns all who get in its way. It can represent physical disaster, but I think in this case it is the disaster that comes from a panicked crowd."
Gawain draws The Juggler. It depicts a giant, happy-seeming young man juggling a variety of objects (a house, a boat, a clocktower, even a bemused-looking elephant) as he strides across the countryside. "This card represents fate -- the gods, or those who play with the lives and destinies of others. If the Juggler, you, can keep up your rhythm, you will achieve your goals"
Finally, Cole draws The Rabbit Prince. It shows a finely dressed anthropomorphic rabbit, wearing a crown and carrying a broken sword. "The Rabbit Prince represents hand-to-hand combat. He is battle personified, and the sword symbolizes that anyone can fall in battle, no matter how brave or skilled. Be careful."
Simn:
Zellara collects the six cards and shuffles them back into the deck. She lays out nine cards, face-down, in a 3 x 3 grid. "Now, the Harrowing itself. The leftmost column represents the past."
She turns up, from top to bottom, The Queen Mother, The Desert, and The Hidden Truth. "The Queen Mother -- she is fond of the powerless and the underclasses. I judge that this signifies that you each have risen from past sorrows. The Hidden Truth, as you would think, is a card of secrets and their revealing. But in its position . . . some of you may learn things from your past that you would rather not know."
Zellara moves to the middle column and turns up The Wax Works, The Unicorn, and The Lost. "Now, the present. The Lost, in that postion, is not a good sign. For someone significant, right now, the world has gone mad. I do not know whom it might be."
Finally, Zellara turns up the cards on the right -- The Idiot, The Tyrant, and The Rabbit Prince. "The future . . . The Rabbit Prince is the most important card here, especially for you, Cole Pegason. I see you fighting someone with a knife. The future is chaotic, this is not guaranteed, but take special care."
"That is end of the Harrowing, my friends. I hope it has been of some benefit."
“The Crows,” Leliestraat murmurs, shaking his head in bewilderment at the mystic. “The fates conspire against me, it seems,” he continues in low tones.
“The Lost ... The Idiot ... The Tyrant ?” he asks quietly. “Your Harrowing is rife with chaos and violence, Zellara. I fear this endeavor is ill fated.”
Leliestraat blinks away the anxiety of the moment, steeling himself for the confrontation yet to come.
“Well, I am for the trip to Westpier 17,” he offers, shifting in the tall chair at the table. “When shall we away?”
"Now seems good," Simn says, still mulling over the implications of the reading, "We have the cover of darkness, and who knows how long Lamm will stay put?"
Frasides seems pensive but interested in Zellara's words.
"I....thank you for your reading, Zellara."
"I am not one to take such things with deep portent, but your reading to me seems to indicate we should act soon. I am impatient to get underway, and would certainly want to survey Lamm's lair this night, at least."
Glancing at Leliestraat and Simn, "Some seem to agree, but we all have a stake in this matter - what say the rest of you?"
"If we seek justice tonight, then it will most likely end up being of the more swift and brutal kind. While I think that this bastard is one who imminently deserves this fate, I beleive we should take a few precautions as well." Avalon sits deep in thought for a moment before continuing.
"For one thing, I think it might be wise of you to make yourself scarce for a couple of days. If even a hint of what is happening gets out, chances are one of the first things that Lamm will do is to have you killed."
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"For one thing, I think it might be wise of you to make yourself scarce for a couple of days. If even a hint of what is happening gets out, chances are one of the first things that Lamm will do is to have you killed."
Zellara smiles. "Thank you for your concern, Avalon Deepsweep. But no need to worry -- after you leave here, I will go where Lamm has no chance of finding me."
Cole speaks up after Zellara finishes speaking,
"I'm also agree that tonight is the perfect night. We know where he is and we should strike before he can weasel out of his current hole. Thank you again Zellara, good luck."
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As the group excuse themselves and go out, it is late twilight, not yet full dark. Smoky oil lamps break the gloom here and there, but not enough to actually count as "lighting."
The small troupe comes to the fishery Zellara described. The reek of brine and the stink of week-dead fish hang thickly in the air here. The old double doors in the side of this weathered building are tightly closed, with a drooping signpost hanging above. The sign it once displayed is long gone, leaving behind only a single short length of rusted chain.
A fifteen-foot-wide loading dock abuts the north side of the building. A few carts sit nearby, partially loaded with large tar-caked barrels marked with a fish-shaped splotch of red paint on the side. Double doors to the immediate south of the loading dock’s ramp provide access to the building’s interior, while a rickety flight of stairs descends nearly to the river’s surface to the east, where a second door provides a secondary entrance.
A slippery boardwalk clings to the south side of the fishery, held together by barnacle-thick pilings that have been worn halfway through their thickness at the waterline.
Muffled sounds of voices can be heard from inside.
Frasides flexes his hands in anticipation; he seems ready to bolt towards the doors. Then he takes a deep breath.
"If everyone feels like rushing the doors to attack Lamm, I understand. But there maybe innocents in there, and we need to be careful. Perhaps we should wait an hour for surveillance, then move in."
"Otherwise, what say we scout the building. It seem possible we could charge the loading dock's doors; but we should also see check out that door to the east and the boardwalk for a quieter entrance."
Some slight discomfort comes across his face. "My apologies for stating orders...too much time at the Endrin Academy. Anyone else?"
"Scouting it is," Simn says softly, "Back in a minute." With that, he slips away from the group, making his way quietly and with care towards the door down by the river. Simn is clearly a gnome of action. His intent is to make a quick check for traps, listen at the door for any sound, and examine the lock with an eye to breaking and entering.
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"Scouting it is," Simn says softly, "Back in a minute." With that, he slips away from the group, making his way quietly and with care towards the door down by the river. Simn is clearly a gnome of action. His intent is to make a quick check for traps, listen at the door for any sound, and examine the lock with an eye to breaking and entering.
Simn stealthily moves down the loading dock through the gloom without event. The door is a typical exterior door. As far as Simn can tell, it is not trapped, nor does he hear anything behind the door (the voices heard earlier do not seem to be from this side of the fishery). The lock does not appear too challenging, but Simn hasn't really made a specialty of lockpicking.
Nodding thoughtfully to himself, Simn returns to the group, continuing to exercise caution, "All's quiet downstairs," he says, "And the lock looks easy enough to pick. Looks like that's the way to get in. Only problem is if we do wind up kicking up a ruckus, they can escape out the front easy."
Murmuring so that he cannot easily be overhear from inside, "Shall we set up one or 2 of us up front then in case they try to make an escape? I might be a good choice there as I specialize in incapacitation and immobilization techniques."
"Yes, I must agree with Avalon, the last thing we want to do is let that rat escape. Perhaps we even strike from both angles? One group go in the loading doors and the other goes to the door near the river? I'd suggest that myself and Avalon, or Fras, go through the east, while the rest travel through the double doors?" Cole whispers to the others, while keeping his eyes & ears open
Perception - +3 Modifier
"I also think that sounds good. I don't know what we'll face, but two approaches might let us work through more quickly before anyone can react. Perhaps two teams of three? Since Simn seems to have confidence in opening the locks, perhaps it should be him, Cole, and myself at the east door. Avalon, Leliestraat (Fraz hesitates a little with pronouncing the elf's name), and Gawain take on the double doors."
As he converses, Frasides continues to keep an eye on the place - looking for anything that might stand out or unusual movements.
Spot (1d20+6=22)
The elf assesses the weathered fishery in the twilight, searching for unseen entries and hidden features. At the sound of the muffled voices, the linguist turns his keen senses on the source and the language.
After making his own attempts to discern the voices emerging from within, Leliestraat listens intently to the suggestions of his newfound associates and nods in agreement.
“I will do as Fraz has suggested,” the elf whispers, glancing at Avalon and Gawain with confidence. “Beware, Lamm has the advantage of his own terrain. Be prepared for resistance.”
Drawing his ornate longsword from its worn scabbard, Leliestaat chants quietly in an arcane and unintelligible tongue and passes his hand through the growing darkness in a flourish over the blade. With a seeming brilliance and fineness wrought upon the charmed blade, the elf steadies himself for the impending confrontation.
How do I make this blue? I don't remember the code :(
Leliestraat attempts
Listen (WIS) +2
Search (INT) +3 + 2
Spot (WIS) +2
Racial ability to sense hidden or concealed doors.
Languages: Common, Elven, Draconic, Goblin, Sylvan
Leliestraat casts Magic Weapon on longsword. (+1 enchantment)