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The door is unlocked. This foul-smelling room seems to be a combination
bedroom and study. A wooden bed with a lumpy mattress stands against the east wall, while a round table heaped with dirty plates, bread crusts, stained goblets, fruit rinds, and scuttling cockroaches sits nearby. At the foot of the bed sits a large strongbox, a slighty rusted lock securing its lid. A sagging dresser filled with moth-eaten clothes well past their glory days is in one corner—what appears to be a wooden
hatbox surrounded by a small cloud of flies sits atop this dresser.
Leliestraat kicks Lamm corpse, feeling Simn’s disappointment, and peruses the dead man’s effects with the linger thought of discovering some noticed Shiver or paraphernalia.
Just curious, he thinks to assure himself.
Leaving the body in his wake, Leliestraat joins Simn as he enters the adjacent room.
“Was he wearing a hat?” he muses quietly, taking note of the hatbox and thinking back to the fallen criminal.
"No, no hat," Simn says, leaving the hat box well alone. Given the cloud of flies around it, he has no interest in opening it. Truth be told, the room in general isn't any more appealing. Still, there's that strongbox to be investigated. Simn sets to work on opening it.
Glancing at the piles of junk on the tables while his finishes preparing the beast's hide, Frasides asks, "If anyone's searching through that collection of trinkets, see if you come across a small medallion like the one I gave the girl, Nivvy. It should be copperish with a family crest on it - it was Eva's. The old bastard was probably greedy enough to have taken it for himself."
Having come this far, Simn starts untying a couple of the bags in order to see what lies within.
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Having come this far, Simn starts untying a couple of the bags in order to see what lies within.
Simn unwraps:
- A circular gold brooch with a broken clasp. It depicts a pseudodragon and an imp coiled around each other; the pseudodragon's eye is an amethyst, while the imp's is an emerald.
- A Harrow deck, decorated with hand-painted images, the frames gilt in silver so that under lighting they sparkle and flash. Despite the worn condition of the card backs, the images on the faces are so vibrant they seem to move when viewed out of the corner of the eye.
- A a highly realistic and highly scandalous ivory figurine of two entwined succubi.
Knowledge: Nobility and Royalty check from anyone viewing the loot (DC15, must be trained):
"Perhaps we should move the strongbox to a more secure location? If that gnome ran and got reinforcements, I don't wish to battle anyone further this evening." Cole says, while picking up his longsword and wiping the blood on Gaedren's shirt.
He begins moving away from the body, then stops and picks it up, hefting it over one shoulder. Looking to the others, Cole will say "That shark needs to eat." coldly before walking towards the exit. He'll drop Gaedren Lamm off to feed the shark as he moves.
Finally tearing his eyes away from Lamm's corpse as Cole dumps it, Gawain comes over to look over Simn's shoulder. "Strange to find such beauty in such a place," he muses. "Shelyn's eyes are on us. But Cole is right. I don't trust that gnome any farther than I can throw him." He flexes his arms unconsciously, as if wondering just how far that might be.
"Nice Harrow Deck," Leliestraat says to Simn. "isn't that how we ended up here?"
"Destiny? Or ... something else?" he wonders aloud.
Curiosity overtaking him, the elf gingerly brushes away the flies to examine the hatbox.
"Anything else in those bags?" he asks, opening the filthy box.
"I imagine this is the one that was taken from Zellara," Simn says, pocketing the deck rather than leaving it in amongst the loot. It will be returned as soon as the opportunity arises. The other items go back into the chest, "Cole's right though, this probably isn't the place to go through everything. Unless there's anything else that needs to be investigated, we might as well get going."
"I tend to agree...there's nothing left here now that we have metted out justice. Let's get Zellara her deck and be on our way."
Fraz remains outside the room they are searching - his mind not much focused on treasures. Fraz will scan the tables full of junk, mostly to look for a bag to carry the rolled-up hide. But he's hoping he'll find his sister's medallion.
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Curiosity overtaking him, the elf gingerly brushes away the flies to examine the hatbox.
"Anything else in those bags?" he asks, opening the filthy box.
Leliestraat:
Leliestraat, Heal DC10:
Fraz does not find the medallion in the clutter.
"Simn, you might want to be careful with that Harrow Deck," Leliestraat hisses hesitantly, holding the lid of the hatbox in his quivering hands.
"All of you ... have a look at this ..." the elf calls out, lifting the hatbox and presenting its contents before him.
"It's the mystic ... at least, some of her ..."
Still slightly distracted, Frasides makes his way over to see the elf's finding.
"Imps and dragons! What the blazes is going on here?," he swears as he looks into the box.
Though utterly shocked by this revelation, Simn soon pulls himself together, "Okay, we're leaving," he says decisively, "I say we head for the cathedral. Make sure the kids arrived safely. I'm not taking anything for granted just now. Somebody get the box - I'm going to make sure there's nobody lying in wait outside."
Not waiting for a response, Simn heads for the exit, intending to make his way upstairs and scope out the surroundings. He doesn't know what kind of game the person who definitely wasn't Zellara is playing, but he doubts it's one even remotely concerned with their best interests.
Gawain catches sight of the hatbox's contents. He stared wide-eyed for a second, then turns and vomits noisily into the water below. Wiping his mouth, he steels himself and studies the head more closely. "That's... not fresh," he says. "It must have been here for a while. Weeks, maybe."
"Simn is right, let's get out of here," Gawain continues. "Fraz, can you bring the valuables? Leliestraat... would you like me to take the head, or are you okay with it?"
Not waiting any further, Frasides grabs the foot locker and the gator's hide and makes his way back towards the entrance.
"I've had enough of this place; let's be on our way. I want to talk with this "Zellara" again and see what's going. If this pretender was one of Lamm's partners; she'll be regreting it..., " he says very tensely.
Cole will advance first up the ladder and will scan the area for any potential ambush before giving the all clear sign to those below. He's quite anxious to leave this place behind.
"Does someone want to run up and see what that ruckus is? Maybe someone who isn't carrying a severed head?" Gawain suggests.
"Perhaps it would be best if we can make our back to Zellara's home? I don't want to see the imposter get away. If you all think differently, then perhaps we should make our way south instead - make sure the children made it to the temple safely," he says from under his burden of chest and hide.
Clutching the hideous hatbox with outstretched hands, Leliestraat's unease at ferrying the mystic's disembodied head is palpable as he coughs audibly and grimaces.
"I'd rather not engage in another battle, as yet," he concedes. "Couldn't we resolve this unfortunate and inexplicable aspect of the night's adventure before beginning another foray against the evils of our town?" he laughs in a shaky voice.
Gawain's comment prompts a sharp glance back at the others from Simn, making sure that nobody's seen fit to bring along the severed head. It's just not the kind of thing you can explain away to passers-by.
"The cathedral," he says firmly, "Either the impostor's long gone or she's waiting for us. Either way, we've got time to check in on the kids."
Leliestraat smiles at Simn's stern glance back and tips his head toward the hatbox in his hands with a quiet laugh.
"What possible good can come from carrying a severed head around?" Simn asks.
"Well, how about we give her a deccent burial - she deserves that much for being one of Lamm's victims," answers Fraz.
"Or we take it to authorities and have them investigate her house - the second option doesn't seem workable given that it looks like some kind of hell is breaking loose for the authorities. If anyone sees Sable Company marines in flight, it's definetly got to be worse than us wandering the docks with a chest and a head."
"In any case, I'm hardly inconspicous lugging around a footlocker and gator's hide. If you're that nervous it will be seen - keep the hat box closed and put it in this chest . We'll sort this out once we get to our destination." These last words are said with some irritation rising in his voice.
"...Oh." Simn is instantly contrite, "Sorry; I just wasn't thinking, obviously." He shakes his head. Maybe they will run into trouble for carrying around the head, but the poor woman does deserve a decent burial at the very least.
Gawain nods, but adds, "Simn is right that the cathedral should be our next stop. Those kids will need someone to speak for them."
"Fair enough by me, Gawain."
"So then, we're all in general agreement that we're going to head south to the Pantheon of Many's temple to make sure the orphans made it there safely. From the sounds of the ruckus, it looks like we go them out of here not a moment too soon."
"Since we'll be near the Grey, hopefully we can get this woman, Zellara, proper burial - what's left of her at least. From there, I guess we'll see what the state of affairs are in Korvosa that's causing such a stir."
Thoughts? Further suggestions.
"A well-thought plan indeed, I am all for assuring that the little ones are safe." Cole agrees
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The party makes little progress before it is evident that something terrible has happened, and the chaos has reached the area of the docks.
Korvosa is in flames. Smoke rises on the horizon. The frantic clang of alarm bells sing out in harmony with a multifarious cacophony of screams, the clash of steel on steel, moans, and even the periodic detonation of arcane power.
A wing of Sable Company griffon riders swoops overhead, angling toward Castle Korvosa at a breakneck pace. One of the badly wounded mounts rains blood down on the street around you before it succumbs and crashes headlong into a statue, taking its rider and itself to a bone-crunching demise. The others in the flight do not pause to check on their fallen ally.
Amid the chaos, the voice of a Korvosan herald cuts through the din: "The king is dead! Long live the queen!" only to be shouted down by ragged cries of "Hang the queen!" and "The usurper whore must die!"
Fraz's mood becomes dour as they continue on their way - the impact of what they have seen and done tonight settling in.
Several times though, he clearly is shocked to see the Sable Company marines in such dire action. When they witness the incident of the falling Marine and his mount, he pauses and stares into the distance where the man went down...clearly pondering whether he should see to the man. But he moves on with rest quickly enough. "This is not a good sign," he mutters several times.
When the news finally spreads that the King is dead, and there is a new Queen, he's more annoyed than shocked. "Well that's just dandy...now we've got a Queen with ruby lips and nothing much else in her head. Her tastes made Eodred seem positively cheap by comparison."
Otherwise, he remains pretty quiet as they make their way to the temple.
Well, that's torn it. There's going to be chaos in the streets for weeks now. Simn has always heard that all Korvosan monarchs come to bad ends (some deservedly so), but until now it's always just been something in the background. You never really consider that these things might kick off on any given day. He can only hope that the kids made it to the cathedral before things got bad. All things considered, it's probably best to keep a low profile over the next little while. No sense in getting caught up in all the madness.
Simn carries on his way, though he can't help but take in the destruction and violence. He hopes nobody he knows has been caught up in it all. Most of his friends are reasonably sensible when it comes to politics, but it's all very indiscriminate.
Gawain's eyes follow the griffon and its rider on the doomed arc of their flight, heart aching. Shelyn, Korvosa needs you tonight... "We'd best keep moving, and stay together. A night like this is no time to dawdle, or to wander alone."
"Indeed, we should stick together to avoid getting caught up in this chaos. This is quite the scene, if the Sable Company is so quickly overwhelmed, we must be on guard." Cole says, while he debates in keeping his sword drawn, but decides against it. Such aggressive actions will only lead to more bloodshed.
"Right," Leliestraat nods in agreement, as the smoke roils into the night. "The populace looks bristling for a bit of anarchy. I've not seen the likes of this since I came to Korvosa, though I, too, have heard of the throne's unfortunate and tumultuous past."
"I don't truly want to harm any of the folk," he adds, shaking his head at the fallen griffon-rider. "However, I won't hesitate to teach them a lesson with my elven steel," he claims, partially to bolster his own confidence in the face of such lawlessness.
"The mob rules, it seems."
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You make your way back to Zellara's home, dodging the occasional battle and even a squad of four Hellknights attacking a group of looters.
When you reach the house, you find it abandoned, looking as if it had
been empty for weeks. There is no sign of food, the wall hangings, the rugs, or Zellara herself. The furniture is in pieces scattered throughout the room.
"The furniture is destroyed... Why would someone do that?" Gawain wonders. "Do you think they were looking for something? Maybe there was a fight..."
Fraz puts down the contents he's been carrying and looks around intensely. "Something's not right here...this place has been abandoned longer than one night. I'd like to believe it was ransacked, but there was no forced entry...either someone's playing a trick on us or magic's been at work here. Some of you knew him better than; did Lamm have any magical allies or wizards that would help his scams?"
Simn glances about, hand stealing towards his pocket. Noticing the action, he carefully brings out the harrow deck, a sneaking suspicion taking shape within his mind.
"Zellara?" he says, "We're back."
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As Simn draws out the cards, a chill fills the ruined room. At that moment, Zellara appears, seemingly from nowhere, in front of you. She looks exactly as she did when sending you to Lamm's.
"My friends. You have found my Harrow deck, for which I am grateful. I apologize for deceiving you earlier. Yes, Gaedren Lamm murdered me. It seems, though, that my bond to my deck, and to this city, was stronger than he knew. I found myself aware of things around the cards -- sights, sounds, magical auras, and even, to some extent, the feelings of the one who carries the deck. Indeed, I now to seem to have knowledge beyond that which I had in life.
"As I told you earlier, and you have now no doubt seen for yourself, Korvosa is in danger. I chose the six of you as individuals the cards and the city had let me know cared deeply about the city. And, selfishly, I chose some who would help me in my vengeance against Gaedren Lamm.
"Please forgive me for the deception, and tell me I have chosen rightly."
"Waydin's Blade," Frasides utters quietly - a reference to the Korvosan hero of old and his steely resolve. Initially surprised, he quickly sobers to the realization that his earlier dreams of further revenge are uncalled for.
"I'm....sorry....we couldn't do more, Zellara. Gaederan Lamm is dead, and I hope you can take comfort in that. What would you have us do now, do you wish us to bury you and your deck?"
Gawain's eyes go wide, and he clutches his holy symbol for reassurance as he listens to the ghostly woman's story. "What can people like us do for Korvosa? We're not Sable marines or anything. I mean, I'd like to help if I can, but how?"