Jilian:
Jilian had settled down for the night, back in the small studio she had rented in the better-off parts of Old Korvosa. She had just managed to secure the aid of Melissandre Karen, a young half-elven officer of the Korvosan guard, and felt confident that Lamm was only days from her grasp, when she noticed something. A window was slightly ajar she had been certain she closed when leaving the house in the morning. It had a single Harrow card jammed into it. It was the Paladin, a card of good fortune, of steadfast loyalty and dependability. Whoever had placed it here had at least been generous - her home had not been plundered past that.
Katryala:
For one thing, your study at Theumanexus' Academy takes a irritatingly large share of your time. Not only learning, but also defending yourself against the taunts. Talk of you being an "Academae wannabe" with your strong focus regarding abjuratory magics, is sadly unquenchable, even despite Master Geezlebottle's stern protective stance. If he is to be believed, you can go far. Of course, such an endorsement does not necessarily endear you to every student - and particularly not to a young half-elf called Verun Gallleaf.
Your inquiries going nowhere, you where beginning to contemplated more direct, drastic measures. Then, just today, fate seemed to intervene quite directly. When you opened your books for the morning class, you found a harrow card just where you had left your bookmark the night before. You know this card: The Inquisitor. From what you learned about the Varisian Card game, it supposedly represents a stern, immutable reality that could not be changed by any means.
Alandra:
Nayr:
But as he was sweeping the small space on the floor of Shelyn's statue and the back wall, he found something startling. Atop a thin layer of undisturbed dust (Keina, the other Acolyte must have been slacking), there was a Harrow card. While he had heard of the Varisian fortune telling device, he had no real personal experience with it, and thus could not quite interpret the card, which showed to people, one the inverse of the other, and was titled "The Twin".
Ayedah:
It was on the way back from the funeral that fate dealt her a winning hand. She felt the softest tug on her purse, and tried to grasp the pickpocket - maybe one of the children Lamm had enslaved, but caught only a thin, flimsy piece of paper. It was a card, painted in the fashion Varisians decorate their fortune telling decks. She had been "harrowed" once before, and recalled the card now in her hand. It was the picture of a crocodile-headed man resting on the back of a poor soul. The Rakshasa, a card of slavery and abuse... All too fitting to make her blood boil hot. When she first encountered it, it presaged the horrible injustice done to her friend. But this time, its message was on the back, and even though Ayedah did not know the glyphs, the meaning came to her as if someone was whispering into her ear.
Krek:
Just when the rage started to entice Krek to act foolishly, there was a plea for help. When he rose from a deep sleep after a long, exhausting night of grueling exercise, he found a thin card on the small nightstand next to his bed.The rest of his quarters were undisturbed, nothing taken and nothing else placed. The card depicted a man amids spirits of the slain, and was entitled "The Survivor". Krek had never given much thought about this oracle, but it seemed a fitting enough card for him.
Zalen Candorian:
He had just pulled up his britches, and fastened his belt when his eyes ran down her discarded clothes, lying strewn across the polished oaken floorboards. Among them, there was a thing he would have noticed the night before. A single harrow card, The Lost. A mighty warrior, corrupted in undeath. He definitely would have remembered, had it been there before.
Gern:
He was just leaving the dungeon behind, when he noticed something peculiar in one of the light shafts. There lay a single card out of a Harrow deck. He had never given much credence to these human superstitions, but the "Keep", a strange limbed mechanical fortress, looked at least humerous. No way these limbs would bear such a load, even if forged from the finest mithral. Still, it became more than a joke once he turned it around
On the back of the card, in fine, feminine handwriting, several words were written in black ink:
I know what Gaedren has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells, but i am unable
to strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street next Sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must
finally face his fate.
Zalen Candorian:
Ayedah:
Krek:
Alandra:
Katryala:
Nayr:
The early summer night was warm, yet a seaside breeze kept the heat from growing oppressive as you approached the house at 3 Lancet Street. A nice townhouse, by all appearances. It was well-kept, and a wooden shingle proclaimed that it to be the home and workplace of "Zellara, Mystic and Seer." Under the image of an eye, it proclaimed "The future is yours, but i can light your path". The door was kept unlocked, and slightly ajar. Light fell through that narrow opening, deep and pleasant.
From what could be glimpsed through the door, a cozy room was visible. Drapes in vivid colors covered most of the walls, and similar rugs were strewn on the floor seemingly carelessly, but composing a pleasant image nevertheless. A fragrant smell of herbs and flowers wafted through the room, strangely soothing on even the most riled of nerves. Barely visible in the sides, a number of sticks of incense smoldered in small burners shaped like elves with the wings of butterflies. Blue wings, close to Desna's holy animal, and invoking the Goddess of Dreams' blessing. Even the very room took on a dreamlike feeling with the smoke softening the edges and enhancing the softness of the rugs and chairs.
On the either side of the room, two tapestries hung. One depicted a a pair of angels, frolicking on a icy mountaintop in bright sunlight. The power of the image was such that the tapestry seemed to almost radiate. On its opposite side, a fiendish black-skulled beast was depicted, engulfed by shadows. In each of its clawed hands it held a human heart, with a third juggled between the two. Both were dominated, however, by a larger tapestry showing a shrouded skeletal figure, and a large blade bursting in flames held in his hands.
On the table, there was a small note written in the same handwriting as your Harrow card:
Dear friends, thank you for coming. I sadly had to step out for a moment, but will return shortly. Please do get comfortable and help yourself to some bread and wine in my absence. You will find both below this table.
Gern moved carefully into the room, looking about for any signs of a trap or ambush. The dwarf was curious but also dubious about the offer of aid. Especially after he'd gone asking questions about Lamm.
Seeing the note and realising the smokey room was empty, he relaxed a bit. His hand moved from the haft of his waraxe, the pommel carefully wrapped in black calico to hide the clan symbol engraved there. His shield was similarly covered. He had the feeling his work would be dark in the coming weeks and he didn't want his actions to come back on his clan.
The new chain shirt he had purchased gleamed with oil and sat well on his broad shoulders. It pinched at his straw coloured, chest length beard but the fighter withsood this small discomort without complaint. The artisans clothes he wore were servicable and sturdy, designed for rough work on the docks and equally suitable for rough work in other areas.
He let his grey eyes wander over the tapestries briefly but found their images to be of no real interest. Battles and dwarven legends were what moved him, not these angels and demons.
Grunting a small dismissal at the decor, he moved to the back of the room and faced the door. He was in shadow and out of line of sight from the door, and from this corner he could see the entire room. He settled in to wait.
Nayr poked his head into the room before walking past the threshold, taking in his surroundings. As the pleasant smelling smoke wafted through the air, the cleric gave a small smile. It sure didn't look like this was a trap of any sort, the room seemed homely at the very least.
Long strips of light blue silk interwove with Nayr's newly crafted chainshirt armor, given to him by his father Nargel. Around his waist was a light red sash, made of silk as well, with one end trailing down his right hip. At the end of the cloth was a stitched symbol of Shelyn, a small bird with a lengthy, multi-colored tail. On his back were three items strapped into place, a tall glaive, a wooden longbow, and a quiver of arrows.
Looking around for the writer of the cryptic message, Nayr noticed a small note on the table in front of him. Walking over, the acolyte picked up the piece of parchment and read the words. Apparently, others were contacted according to the opening, 'Dear Friends.' Nayr approved, the more enemies Gaedren Lamm possessed the better.
Letting his gaze wander around the room once more, the young man was startled to see another in the corner of the chamber, mostly hidden by shadows. The other figure was short of stature, and seemed to be armored as well. Wary of possible dangers, Nayr spoke out quietly. "Hello, are you the one who sent for me and the others to come to this place?"
Alandra paused at the door for a moment before entering, composing herself. She wore a long brown cloak over her leather cemetery guardian armor and uniform, with the hood pulled tightly over her head, her knives and holy symbol hidden underneath.
She gripped the hilt of her dagger with one hand under her cloak and stepped though the door. When she entered she saw that there were already two other people present in the room, and stopped and stood still.
"Hi" she said. "I am Alandra. Either you are here to kill Gaedren Lamm or you are here to kill me. Which is it?"
A movement behind him caused the cleric to whirl around in surprise, perhaps there was a new arrival. Sure enough, a cloaked figure entered the room, the fabric of the shawl a dark shade of brown. One hand moved underneath the cloak to grasp some unseen item, and Nayr tensed up in anticipation of an attack.
But it seemed as though the figure wasn't here to cause trouble, the girl, discernible from her voice, appeared to be here on account of the strange message as well. Forgetting about the other in the corner for the moment, Nayr put on a broad smile and held up his hands. "Well, I'm not here to kill you, it appears we've been summoned here for the same reason. Gaedren Lamm."
Krek held the card in his hand as his mind raced as to its intent. While he was furious his room had been invaded, his ire was stayed by the memories of his mother the card invoked. She'd dabbled in such mystic areas when he was quite small, he remembered. A moment of sadness passed as he gazed into nothing.
Getting out of his bed, he dressed quickly in his drab laboring clothes, the browns of the coarse cloth coating him overly-much for the heat. Without a second thought, he strapped his sword to his side and set out, heading North from the Pantheon.
He'd not recalled exactly where his mother went to learn about the cards, it being so long ago, but he hoped something would help him remember. He was awake now though, and he could not fall back to sleep. Whoever had woke him better have had good reason, Krek thought, as he briskly walked down the street.
"Well, I'm not here to kill you, it appears we've been summoned here for the same reason. Gaedren Lamm."
Alandra became visibly more relaxed. She took her hands out from under her cloak and pulled her hood back.
"That's good to hear. I was afraid this was a trick."
She walked over to the table and read the note.
"So I guess we wait." she said as she poured a glass of wine.
Sneaking in behind these large, clumsy people, Jillian says nothing, instead choosing to wait and see what luck she can find here.
Being well aware of the area the card bid him go to
Zalen decides to use a more inconspicuous route by traveling the Shingles to get there. It seems others have arrived ahead of him as he can see light and shadow within and a halfling has just entered.
Not hearing anything alarming, he is about to jump down when he spots a large, angry looking half-orc seemingly making his way to the same address 'maybe I'll just wait a few more min, that fellow looks like he may be trouble' he thinks to himself...
If after the half-orc enters bodies don't start flying out, he will try and slip in as unobtrusively as possible. Upon noticing the artwork, he'll also casually try and appraise it's value...just, you know, in case..
Appraise=16
Ayedah shouldered her earthbreaker hammer when she finally found her way to 3 Lancet Street. She closed her eyes and tried to will her arms to stop shaking with anger. She carefully pushed the ajar door further open and stepped inside.
The light from outside illuminated her tall, muscular frame. With her red-brown skin, tribal hawk tattoo on her right arm, and bald scalp, she was obviously a Shoanti. She wore only a toughened leather shirt, leggings, and boots and carried nothing but the large warhammer on her shoulder, a card in her left hand, and the small purse at her belt. She was clearly upset, but attempting to put on a civil face. She also seemed unaware of the dried streaks underneath her eyes.
After quickly scanning the room she eased the grip on her hammer, coughed and held up the card and uncomfortably spoke, "I...I was told to come here. Were you as well?"
Sipping her wine, Alandra watched as others entered the room, wondering at how many different kinds of people Gaerdren had wronged. Then saw the Shoanti woman come through the door. She had not seen a real Shoanti in a long time.
After quickly scanning the room she eased the grip on her hammer, coughed and held up the card and uncomfortably spoke, "I...I was told to come here. Were you as well?"
"Yes. I found a card too." as she pulled the card out of her pocket.
In Shoanti:
The light from outside illuminated her tall, muscular frame. With her red-brown skin, tribal hawk tattoo on her right arm, and bald scalp, she was obviously a Shoanti. She wore only a toughened leather shirt, leggings, and boots and carried nothing but the large warhammer on her shoulder, a card in her left hand, and the small purse at her belt. She was clearly upset, but attempting to put on a civil face. She also seemed unaware of the dried streaks underneath her eyes.
After quickly scanning the room she eased the grip on her hammer, coughed and held up the card and uncomfortably spoke, "I...I was told to come here. Were you as well?"
Thinking he had been the last 'invitee' as he had seen no one else coming on the street when he entered, Zalen turns expecting to see their host...
Sense Motive DC5'That's obviously Not Zallera, but where did she come from? I didn't see anyone...' A moment later the tall newcomer's appearance fully registers on him..'A Shoanti! And a Very female Shoanti at that' It is a very rare experience for the ladies man to meet a lady who can almost look at him eye to eye, those who notice can see him move his hand to caress something concealed under his armor...'she seems distressed...obviously a gentleman's charm is needed hereHe Grins. The realization that he has not yet washed the 'love sweats' of his previous conquest off of him yet only makes him the grin wider...At hearing Shoanti spoken he turns to look at the speaker and seems somewhat shaken for a moment 'TWO Shoanti? What could That mean? She's a comely lass too, a little 'dark' seeming for my taste perhaps...anyway, where was I? Oh yes' He turns back to the Shoanti female filling the doorway...
"Shoanti sister, allow me to introduce myself" he seems about to go into a courtly bow when he glances down at himself realizing he is Not in his finery and is wearing well-used leathers instead. He grimaces slightly and settles for a nod of the head instead.
"Ah, yes, as I was saying, dear lady, it seems that we all(he sweeps his arm in a gesture across the room) have been invited here this evening, because, as I understand, we all have something in common." "If we are all to have common purpose, we should, at least, know who we all are, yes?"
"Therefore I shall begin, I am Zalen Candorian of the famous Candorian trading Emporium. Perhaps you have heard of us?"
Sense Motive DC18
He turns to Ayedah "However for you my formidable warrior maid, I can assure I am, to be sure, at Your service" To which to does bow with a flourish anyway, with a hard to resist grin which takes a self-depreciating humour at the contradictory manner of his appearance with his words, hoping to win a smile from her troubled visage.
Diplomacy check:17
"Yes. I found a card too." as she pulled the card out of her pocket.
In Shoanti:
** spoiler omitted **
A brief look of confusion passed over Ayedah's face when Alandra spoke to her in her native tongue, quickly followed by one of relief and respect.
In Shoanti:
Thinking he had been the last 'invitee' as he had seen no one else coming on the street when he entered, Zalen turns expecting to see their host...
Sense Motive DC5 ** spoiler omitted **"Shoanti sister, allow me to introduce myself" he seems about to go into a courtly bow when he glances down at himself realizing he is Not in his finery and is wearing well-used leathers instead. He grimaces slightly and settles for a nod of the head instead.
Ayedah cuts short her question when another stranger enters and addresses her with an unexpected amount of what she assumes is "courtliness". She thinks she sees interest in his eyes, and is obviously taken aback. Surely he can't be, she thinks. Before she can reply...
"Ah, yes, as I was saying, dear lady, it seems that we all(we sweeps his arm in a gesture across the room) have been invited here this evening, because, as I understand, we all have something in common." "If we are all to have common purpose, we should, at least, know who we all are, yes?"
"Therefore I shall begin, I am Zalen Candorian of the famous Candorian trading Emporium. Perhaps you have heard of us?"
Sense Motive DC18
Ayedah stares dumbfounded at the strange man who has suddenly burst out with more words for her than most Korvosans have given her in the past three weeks.
He turns to Ayedah "However for you my formidable warrior maid, I can assure I am, to be sure, at Your service" To which to does bow with a flourish anyway, with a hard to resist grin which takes a self-depreciating humour at the contradictory manner of his appearance with his words, hoping to win a smile from her troubled visage.
Diplomacy checkfor this little(??lol)speech:17
Ayedah blushes a bit at the display, particularly at being referred to in far more positive terms than she has had cast her way this day. She cannot help but smile faintly despite herself and her confusion.
"Um...." she looks to the other strangers as if they had any advice to give on the matter, unsure of Korvosan customs as she is. "Thank you?" she ventures awkwardly.
Knowledge - Local DC 10:
Knowledge - Local DC 15:
Knowledge - Local DC 20:
Appraise - DC 15:
Gern holds his tongue as the room begins to crowd with an assotment of folk. He watches keenly as one of the women begins to drink the wine left behind. As the banter in the room begins in earnest, he steps forwards and speaks quietly to her "I'm not sure as I'd be drinkin that botlle lass. Seems to me a number of people have been asked here who have an agenda against a common foe. Twould be a good way fer someone to remove a number of enemies by poisoning the wine"
He turns then to the fancy dressed man who entered after him. "Nay, i aint the one as sent for ye, and no lass I aint gonna kill ye. I'm here on account of this here Harrow Card, same as the rest of ye. Forgive me fer not introducin' meself, but until our mysterious benefactor arrives I'd as soon not say too much. I aint so sure as I trust someone who knows so much about me without askin' me direct"
He doesn't frown or scowl, his expression is more one of direct intensity, his grey eyes staring intently at each of the people in the room, his mouth a grim line surrounded by his lush beard.
Having said his piece he again steps back and takes a stance of patient witing, his right hand held loosly at his side, near the axe haft.
Nayr watched with growing curiosity as the room quickly began to fill up with a variety of people. The fact that a dwarf, two shoanti, a halfling, and a very outspoken young man all had grudges against Lamm somewhat surprised the cleric. Apparantly, Gaedren had wronged a great many, an idea that Nayr quickly took to. The more the merrier.
Watching silently and listening to the young man's lengthy introduction of himself, Nayr couldn't help but smile. At least one of them was in good spirits this evening.
"Ah, yes, as I was saying, dear lady, it seems that we all(he sweeps his arm in a gesture across the room) have been invited here this evening, because, as I understand, we all have something in common. If we are all to have common purpose, we should, at least, know who we all are, yes? Therefore I shall begin, I am Zalen Candorian of the famous Candorian trading Emporium. Perhaps you have heard of us?"
Nayr waited until Zalen was done chattering with Ayedah, and held out a hand with a friendly smile. "Nayr Goldwyn, an acolyte of the Eternal Rose. Nice to meet you." Then while looking about the room, "And you all as well."
"Nay, I aint the one as sent for ye, and no lass I aint gonna kill ye. I'm here on account of this here Harrow Card, same as the rest of ye. Forgive me fer not introducin' meself, but until our mysterious benefactor arrives I'd as soon not say too much. I aint so sure as I trust someone who knows so much about me without askin' me direct."
And with that, the gruff dwarf just retreated back to his spot in the shadows. Nayr hadn't thought of that, the fact that perhaps these people were foes. His hands drifted to his hips, ready to grab his glaive at the closest sign of trouble.
Not used to so many people in a small place, Jillian hangs back in the shadows, fingering the hilt of her rapier.
Don't they realize that any other person in this room could be a potential enemy? she thinks to herself, as she sees the many people calmly talking.
The small halfling still remains quiet, wanting to remain uninvolved, less she be distracted when trouble arises. I did not cross half the land to die because of some smooth-talking human
Katryala could barely conceal her excitement as she hustled through the streets of Korvosa that eve. First, a solid link to Gaedren had finally come. And now at last the interminable day had ended and she was out in the streets – away from the slowly suffocating strictures of the Academy.
Approaching the address she had been given though, Katryala heard a number of different voices drifting out and moved forward the rest of the way cautiously. She peered through the door to see an assortment of other individuals, some brandishing cards that looked as though they had been taken from the same deck. (Of course it seemed so obvious now in retrospect that there should be others here with the same goal. How many souls had Gaedren brought grief to in his long years? She felt vaguely foolish at not having thought of this possibility before.) Taking a deep breath, she tried to slip quietly through the door into the room. Looking small and frail in her blue student’s robes, she just seemed out of place in this rabble, and her attempt to seem nonchalant in the act just made her feel more ill at ease.
“It seems we all share a common thread,” she said nervously, showing the card she had herself received – the Grand Inquisitor. “If I may ask, how long have you all been awaiting our absent hostess?”
Even if Krek didn't know the name of the street, his feet led him in the right direction. Before too long, he came upon the familiar district where the fortune-teller of sorts resided. He did not know what building to head to, however.
This was not a problem as there as a single structure emitting a fair amount of light and noise. Taking large strides toward and into it, Krek was surprised at the number of folk within, though his surprise was not apparent as it turned to upset too quickly.
"Good evening," he sounded, "Where is the master of these cards you hold?"
None of the people stood out to him immediately as the one he was looking for, so it was unfortunate the frustration no doubt blotted his voice as he addressed them. Aggravated at the cardkeeper's absence, Krek had not yet revealed his, kept within the folds of his loose trousers, just purchased last week as the old pair had been too tight.
Nobody needed to know about his past who didn't already, and if they might try, there was plenty of iron on him in the form of symbols and sword to converse instead.
At the entrance of the huge half-orc, Jillian steps forward.
"You look like a good guy" She says in broken Common. "I have a feeling it would help if we were friends."
"I'm not sure as I'd be drinkin that botlle lass. Seems to me a number of people have been asked here who have an agenda against a common foe. Twould be a good way fer someone to remove a number of enemies by poisoning the wine"
Alandra takes another sip.
"I think if whoever sent for us wanted us dead we be dead already. I never get to drink wine - they say I'm too young at the Temple."
Silently grateful for the finely dressed man's distraction sparing her from making a fool of herself in her ignorance of local custom, Ayedah noticed the door open once more.
“It seems we all share a common thread,” she said nervously, showing the card she had herself received – the Grand Inquisitor. “If I may ask, how long have you all been awaiting our absent hostess?”
"Two of us have only just arrived." Ayedah said as the young woman was soon followed by a half-orcish man.
"Good evening," he sounded, "Where is the master of these cards you hold?"
Ayedah wondered at just how many people Graeden Lamm had wronged in his life.
As the previously silent halfling introduced herself Ayedah turned about the room and asked no on in particular, "Who is this person that has called us all together? Does anyone know of her, this Zellara?" The dwarf's words she overheard came back to her as she wondered whether or not the owner of this house was truly the one that sent for them.
"Who is this person that has called us all together? Does anyone know of her, this Zellara?"
The cleric of Shelyn spoke up, adding what he knew about the fortune teller to the conversation. "From what I've heard of her, Zellara is a local fortune teller. She's pretty well known for her card readings and such. I'm afraid I don't know much more, but I'm sure we'll find out soon," Nayr finished with a hopeful smile, looking to the doorway.
Zalen smirks around the room, pleased to know something they do not
"As I have said, it is my...business..to know certain things. While I cannot say for certain that Zallera is the one who brought us all together, this is indeed her dwelling and place of business. My guess though, is that she will indeed turn out to be our hostess, for you see, she too has been wronged by Lamm.."He growls this name out "..most grievously, although I shall leave the details of how up to her to share or not. Suffice it say, she possesses more than enough reason to wish to see him dead. She also possesses more than enough skill to have known about us all and gathered us all together for Zallera is, by general consent, considered one of Korvosa's most gifted Harrow readers."
and he continues to smile with satisfaction, obviously (in his mind at least) impressing his 'fellow conspirators' with his vast knowledge and wit.
To Ayedah: Obviously pleased to have gotten a positive reaction from her "You are most welcome my lady"
To Nayr: With an approving appraisal of his fine dress "Nayr you say? Well met then! I know not much of the Eternal Rose yet I have not heard anything bad about them. If you are an example, I am sure they are a fine outfit" Grinning at his pun...
As he makes his way over to the wine...
To Gern: "Friend dwarf, I doubt very much someone would go to all this trouble to gather us together just to poison us, no?"
And with a wink to Alandra, "Besides, I, for one am possessed of a powerful thirst and have never been one to turn down the offer to the jewel of the vine" And with a big grin he pours and quaffs a huge gulp of wine.
As the man goes around treating the meeting as if it were a party, Jillian becomes suspicious. This man can do nothing but smile, even though this group has obviously been brought together for a very important reason. I will have to be careful with this one she thinks.
Alandra takes another sip."I think if whoever sent for us wanted us dead we'd be dead already. I never get to drink wine - they say I'm too young at the Temple."
Inwardly Gern smiles at the girls brashness and her strength of personality. Outwardly he remains stoic.
"Aye then Lass, drink to ye hearts content. Twould be ashame if yer first taste of the good stuff also happens te be yer last is all I'm sayin'".
"If this all turns out to be legitiimate then I'll take ye meself to a local tavern and show you the merits of a real drink, some dwarven stout. Till then, I'm thinkin caution may be our ally here"
He raises an eyebrow at the brash young man moving through the room like a social tornado. As this one also takes a quaff of the wine the dwarf smirks and shrugs. Humans were always so carefree with their lives. so be it.
He further eyed the room, looking again at those gathered. Too much metal in one room for an ambush. Most of these types seem very capapble. Certainly the lass with the oversized maul wouldn't be fun to cross blades with. Nay, no one was going to try and kill them with blades in this tight room. If there were a trp, then poison or fire it would be.
Again he fingered the card he had picked up, looking at the symbol on the front and wondering at its significance.
At the entrance of the huge half-orc, Jillian steps forward.
"You look like a good guy" She says in broken Common. "I have a feeling it would help if we were friends."
Krek locked his gaze on the one with the moving mouth. He talks too much . His eyes ensured if his hands tried to move as fast as his tongue though, they'd face a speedbump or two.
While his Orcsight had spotted a little woman less than half his height in the dark, Krek had paid her as much mind as the others; they were all equally dangerous to him. Now with the spokesman chit-chatting, Krek readjusted his value of danger in the room.
[ooc] Sense Motive = 10 + [WIS] + [Sense Motive] = 14
He sensed no immediate harm from the Halfling, so he did not hinder her advance. He did keep her in front of him though, being careful not to let her get behind him. Though she may not be a thief, their kind was so good at it, it would be foolish to risk it, though all he had to steal was his card (he wasn't worry about his sword as it was longer than she was).
Tilting his head, not his eyes, Krek replied "You make friends at odd times."
Tilting his head, not his eyes, Krek replied "You make friends at odd times."
"There is a saying in my tribe. 'He who can make friends with the strongest warrior, is the strongest warrior'." After surveying the room, she looks back at the half-orc. "I don't think anyone here doubts that you are the strongest. So once again, I say, you look like a good friend to have."
The wine turned out to be a rather good vintage, and the bread, though slightly stale, was slightly spiced and complemented it well. Their mysterious host seemed to have good taste in victuals, at least.
As everyone had settled into the room, more or less at ease, the door opened once more, showing a Varisian woman who was slowly leaving behind her youth, but had not yet reached the "venerable mother / crone" age. She was clad in sensible clothes, fashionable and colorful without being garish, and kept her long black hair covered with a headscarf, patterned in the fashion the Varisians preferred. She looked at each of her guests briefly, before closing the door behind herself with an audible click. "I am glad you all decided to follow my summons. I am Zellara. Thank you for coming so promptly, and please forgive my unconventional method of contacting you. Sadly, i believe it was the most sensible way to go about things. I have reasons not to venture out too openly, you see. That horrible man would do great harm to me and mine if he knew i was after him. I speak of course of Ghedren Lamm." She moved over to the table gracefully, filled a small bit of wine into a glass, and took a tiny sip from it. "I have never seen a man who quite so aligned the capacity for cruelty with petty greed. Who destroyed lives for so little gained. Sadly, though, also one whose ability to avoid reprisal is almost unmatched."
She hesitated for a moment, more for dramatic effect than for true doubt. "A month ago, one of his "little lambs" stole my families Harrow deck. It had been handed down from time long forgotten, and also the only means i had to honestly support myself and my boy. My son, Eran, tracked them down. The thieves were in the employ of Gaedren Lamm, and in reward for finding them, Gaedren murdered him." She took back one of the cards used to summon the group together, and the strange script on its back faded. "I... called upon magic my mother taught me on her deathbed. Conjured shadows of the cards Lamm had taken from me, and with their aid found you. He has hurt all of you, deeply and irrevocably. Even if the guard were to listen to me, they would move too slowly, and Lamm would just slip through their fingers as he has done so many times before."
The woman smiled, but there was no mirth in the expression. "I have lost a son, and what i used to find Lamm has weakened me greatly. Will you aid me in bringing him to justice? All i ask of you i to slay him. It is time for him to pay for a live of shattered dreams."
Believing she sees some of her own pain reflected in Zellara's eyes and feeling her anger towards Lamm come to the forefront of her mind again, Ayedah said, "I can only speak for myself, but you have my aid freely."
She lowered her hammer's head to the floor and rest her hands on its handle, waiting for the other guests to have their say before asking further questions.
"I will try to use my quickness as best I can to reach our common goal"
All frivolity gone from his visage, Zalen address' Zellara directly
"My Lady, you ask of me that which I have already sworn to do. With these stalwarts gathered here it only makes our common goal more possible. Yet I swear to you now, with or without their help, my sword is yours." And he bows formally. And for once, it seems, he does Not have a double entendre in mind...
Alandra steps forward. "I have been waiting years to cut that cully's skinny throat."
Nodding vigorously, Nayr agrees with the previous four members of the small group. "Slay Gaedren? I think everyone else that is standing here has that very thought dancing through their minds. I swear upon my goddess, Shelyn the Eternal Rose, that I will aid in bringing justice upon this man." The acolyte's seemingly happy demeanor from before is replaced by a determined, almost intense look shown plainly across his features.
Gern watched as the woman who had summoned them all together drank of the wine. He sighed inwardly at the relief this was not a trap, then forwned at how paranoid this city had truly made him. As she finished her speach and the others around him agreed to help, the dwarf found himself smiling wryly.
"Aye lass, I'll be aidin' ye. Ye'll not need to ask me twice to take a swipe at that one. All ye need do is show me where and I'll do the swingin'"
Zallara's story didn't interest Krek much at first. However, he empathized greatly with her for losing a son - his mother must have felt the same way. The fact she ended with a call to action was a surprise to Krek - most people just talked about things, much like the man in the room he'd been watching. After she finished, he realized it'd been the opportunity for which he'd been waiting.
"I will help you," stated Krek.
(Difficulty controlling her breath... Excitement? Fear? Years of searching finally coming to a close? Deep breath...)
"You... you have my assistance - in any way that will help take this bastard down to his knees."
After each of the guests agreed to help the Varisian woman, Ayedah looked somewhat relieved.
She had actually let herself begin to grow bitter about the people of Korvosa after the events of the day and knowing that a monster such as Lamm was suffered to live amongst them. But if these Korvosans(as she assumed them all to be) of such different sorts were gathering to take action...
"Well you have our help, but where do we start? That man still lives despite being hated by so many, and the guard...", that last word she spat out, "...will not even bother looking for him. Is he simply that hard to find or is there something more?"
"Well you have our help, but where do we start? That man still lives despite being hated by so many, and the guard...", that last word she spat out, "...will not even bother looking for him. Is he simply that hard to find or is there something more?"
"He prob'ly pays 'em off. Some of them guards are bad. I know. One of 'em's on my list."
Alandra stays close to Ayedah.
GM
Zalen rolls a Sense Motive to see what kind of general impression he's made on everyone so far
SM=13
That enough to tell me Krek and Jillian aren't too impressed with me? Or does Zalen blithely think he's still got the gift of gab and everyone adores him? ;-)
PS just a general question on diplomacy Checks. If for example Zalen rolls a high Dip check, does that mean the other pc's Have to like or respond positively to him or what he's saying??
Zalen:
Zellara nodded at Alandra's comment. "That he does, and a single rotten apple is enough to spoil the basket. In addition, he takes care to prey mainly on children who have few people to miss them, and never expose himself. The guard consider him a minor problem, if you can imagine that. Not worth the trouble of bringing to justice." She adjusted her headscarf for a moment. "Ironically, he is currently quite close to this place. He has taken over the old Fishery on the West Pier, just a stones throw north of here. Works his boys day and night when they are not out committing crimes, and trains them to become pickpockets and worse."
Sense Motive DC 20:
Zellara's face darkened for a moment, but then she nodded as if she had decided upon something. "It is unusual to perform a Harrowing for such a large group, but then, it is also unusual to perform it with mere shadows of cards, instead of the true deck. I will read your fortune, if you wish, and maybe the cards will guide your blades to that bastard's heart. I will be damned if I do not support you as best i can." She gathered up the cards, and set aside nine of them, the suit of Keys. Spreading them out, she allowed each to take a card - or not, depending on their personal preferrence.
Gern looks at the mystic for a short while, contemplating the choices of following this human's superstitious beliefs. In the end he shrugged, it wasn't costing him anything.
"I'll take yer reading lass" He states, boldly reaching forward to point at his card
Remembering how relevant her first Harrow reading seemed to be in retrospect, Ayedah drew a card with little hesitation. She found herself hesitant to turn it over, however.
"Please let it be better than the last." she mumbled under her breath.
"Let's see what luck I have today."
Katryala stepped forward slowly, pointing to a card. "This. This one is right."
Walking over to the table, Nayr extends his arm forward and points at a card. "I'll be choosing this one."
Alandra steps up and picks one of the remaining cards.
Krek picks up the card between the halfling which had taken favor to him and the man with the silken sash (#6). He peers at the card as if it would do something if he looked hard enough, then glanced at the hostess for further insight.
Zalen seems to have been distracted for a moment, but snaps back to group.
"Of course I will avail myself of your formidable talent my lady. I have always found three to be an auspicious number, it does not surprise me it has been left for me." And he picks up the 3 card