Marrala opened her eyes slowly as the first rays of dawn slanted through the window pane. Lying on the firm mattress in her small room in the East Shore inn known as Leftover's, she considered briefly rolling back over...but the smell of fresh baking bread called to her empty stomach. She rolled over, hungry and depressed, and considered the empty place beside her. Even after all this time, she still missed Calliope. She looked over at her odd curved blade, the falcata, and wondered how it would look decorated with the blood of Gaedren Lamm. If only she knew where the snake could be found. With a forlorn sigh, Marra resolved to move...to face another day. She reached down to pull on one of her boots...and stopped in surprise, noticing a small card lying on the wooden floor. It hadn't been there the night before, she was certain. She picked it up, examining the gilded edge and hand-painted front, depicting a burly man hard at work at a forge.
Turning it over, she carefully read the words written on the back in a bold dark script.
Her mind racing with grim determination, Marra dressed and gathered her weapons. Perhaps, if this could only be real, she would not be 'Lost' for much longer. In vengeance, she would find herself indeed.
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Pavo Alazario woke in the bed of a stranger...again. He gazed over at the woman who slumbered next to him. She was comely enough, he supposed, but he could not even remember her name. He recalled drinking with her on the night before, and laughing as she led him by the hand to her North Point home. Her merchant husband was away on business, she had promised. Pavo thought for a moment about this lifestyle he had led since he left his home, his family. It was all a part of the plan, he told himself...to work the streets, to seek any word of this Gaedren Lamm, to find Alexandria. But it was all for naught thus far, he feared. As quietly as possible, Pavo reached for his trousers. As he pulled them on, a gilt-edged card fluttered down to land on the bedroom floor. Puzzled, Pavo picked up the card and frowned quizzically at the artwork thereon...a majestic unicorn. Flipping it over, the sorcerer read quickly the words written on the back.
Just then, a man's voice called from just outside the bedroom door. "Dearest, I've returned early, are you awake?" Pavo suppressed a curse under his breath. Hurriedly gathering his things, he slipped out the window, as the door began to open. With thoughts of Gaedren Lamm, Alexandria, and his father's welcoming approval racing through his head, Pavo disappeared, half-dressed, into the morning mist.
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Sorin sat on a barrel and looked out across the Shingles of Bridgepoint. He had taken to spending as much time up here now as he did on the streets below...if not moreso. Oh, to be sure, he had to descend from time to time to...'gather' necessary things. He patted his pocket where he still had a few 'borrowed' pears. But from up here, he knew he had a different perspective...out of the muck and mire...the places where Lamm and his cronies crawled on their bellies. Up on the rooftops, he was a giant among lesser men. But the giant had an empty stomach, so he felt in his pocket for one of those delicious pears...and found something else as well. He pulled forth a beautifully hand-painted card depicting a curiously regal rabbit.
On the back, a bold hand had written something.
Sorin's heart rate quickened, and his fingertips absently brushed over his scars as he considered the card. How had it come to be in his pocket? He had no idea, but he thought long and hard about it as pear juice dribbled down over his chin. He wondered if revenge could be so juicy and sweet.
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Dorran's muscles ached, and he longed to sleep. He had been drilling under Sergeant Magyar for three hours now, and his bastard sword felt like it weighed a ton. He thought his ears were deceiving him, when he heard the sergeant dismiss his company, but as the other recruits began to wearily trudge back toward the barracks, Dorran new it must be true. The long days of mental and physical training only served to make him stronger, he knew. Dorran looked up at the hippogriff tower, as he so often did when he needed to strengthen his resolve. One day, one of those magnificent beasts would be his. As he entered the barracks, too tired to share more than a cursory word with the others of his company, Dorran noticed something lying on the top of his bunk. Picking it up, the young ranger's eyes were drawn to the hand-painted image of a man bursting his bonds under the open sky. On the back, someone had written a message in dark ink.
The mere mention of Lamm's name brought a host of unwelcome memories flooding back into the former Shiver addict's brain...nights and days of pain, of degradation, of despair. With clenched teeth, Dorran's grip tightened once more upon the hilt of his sword. He marched forth from the barracks once more, all weariness forgotten.
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Clandru sat at an old wooden desk in the Bank of Abadar, poring over sums. He knew that this was good work, honest work, and that it benefitted the citizens of Korvosa. He knew that he needed to do this, not only for his city, but for his mother. He recalled how much she had sacrificed just to give him the opportunity to be here, and he was grateful. But, the longing crept into his mind, as it always did. He wanted more...not just order and right, he wanted justice. Justice for his father's sake, and for poor Falosie. Balancing ledgers did precious little for that. Bleary-eyed, Clandru closed his ledger, and reached for another book, a heavy tome of liturgical law. As he lifted it, his eyes fell on a gilt-edged card lying on the desk beneath the book. Picking it up, his eyes studied the bizarre image of a great, rainbow-winged serpent, and he read the words written so deliberately on the card's back.
With authority, Clandru slammed the book back down on the desk and rose to his feet. If this card could be believed, by Abadar, the time for justice was now at hand.
"A harrow card..." she muttered, having had harrowings in the past, she remembered a dog-eared harrow deck from her younger years as well, playing cards, pretending to do harrow readings, strange that she got this card, for she didn't recognize this card...it was missing from the deck they had.
Others who have been wronged, Marra thought, grim determination rolled over her, perhaps, just perhaps, with these others, she would be able to exact her long planned vengeance, everything in her life revolved around that slime, from her earliest memories she knew nothing else, those few memories she had before Lamm had fled, only the memory of her mother remained...no name just the eyes...
she ran the whetstone over her falcata and Calliope's war razor one more time before gathering her stuff to leave... to get some breakfast.
I don't think I'll need my blanket or bedroll today...so I'll leave them here...that way they won't hinder me should combat break-out.
Marra wipes a tear that had welled up and prepared for this, she hoped it wasn't a trap that Gaedren was setting up, but if it were she'd be ready for that even. She had tried to kill him last year as he made a trip outside his hideaway...if that damn gnome hadn't been there to help him after the dart missed, she could have tried another angle...but again she'd had to tuck tail and run...had he found her? No, if that had been the case, I would not have seen the morning's light...
Marra rehides the coins in her bedroll and blanket in the room. She looks around the room one last time...and departs; heading for breakfast...after breakfast in the common room, she wanders around town, if it were a trap, and she was to die today, she might as well enjoy the day before the sun set.
2 hours before sunset she will set-up to observe the entrance from a distance at first.
Sorin flips the card through his finger making it dance and disappear into a pocket as he stares over that choked waterway towards Midland. Rage and excitement race through his body, Finally a lead, even if it might be a trap it is something. Lamm doesn't have much longer to live, vengeance is near. Sorin thinks as he leaps off the barrel.
He jumps over a gap in the buildings catching a glimpse of the busy street fifty feet below. Grabbing onto a drain pipe he slides down and leaps to the street below starting towards the nearest bridge.
Will there be others? It doesn't matter I will do it myself if I have to, nothing will stop me now. Sorin darts through the crowd picking up the pace as he nears Lancet street. He rounds the block scans the street for the place and anyone that might be waiting, to ambush him or otherwise.
Clandru reread the card for the fifth time. His first reaction was one of annoyance . This would destroy his routine for the day but still still ... it would be worthwhile if Gaedren Lamm was finally brought to justice .
He looked out the window to see what time it was and roses from his chair . He didn't look with joy to the fact he would have to say to third secretary Aminar he had to leave early but still still ... Gaedren would pay and priests of Abadar knew how to make people pay ...
As Pavo sat in an inn, now fully dressed, a couple of blocks and hours from the merchant's house, he pondered his next actions over a poor man's meal of porridge and water. Feeling in his pocket for the few silver he had left from what he took with him when he left his home, Pavo started feeling depressed. Almost out of coin and still no sign of this Gaedren Lamm, the young sorcerer thought to himself as he looked back on tactics he had tried to find what he could about Lamm. He had even gone so far as to use his arcane talent to pave the road for his slick tongue and slightly aristocratic charm and the most he had been able to learn is that Gaedren was a minor crimelord who ran multiple rackets in the city, one of which was "Gaedren's Lambs". Evidently he know how to hide as well, the young sorcerer continued as he sank even deeper into a slump. Suddenly, he felt something land on his shoulders, looking up from his partially eaten meal, he sees a small capuchin working its way from his shoulder to the table. He had met "Alistar" the monkey but a week ago, but he had felt a connection to the animal, almost as if the simian were part of himself, that he couldn't refuse. It seemed to know how he was feeling and seemed to understand what the young sorcerer wanted. And it had helped out more than once with securing food or paving the way for a subtle gathering of information.
Settling back into his funk, Pavo didn't even feel Alistar reach into the sorcerer's pocke as the simian returned and dropped the card on the table in front of Pavo. Letting out a small smile, he asks the serving girl for a small banana for he felt the knawing ache of hunger that he felt when Alistar was getting hungry. Then, picking up the Unicorn card once more, he flipped it over to read the message. Others who have been wronged? Seems like a long shot, but right now it is the best lead I have. Gathering up his things once the banana arrives, he gives the waitress a small wink as he pays for the banana and heads for the door, Alistar with a fine position on Pavo's shoulder. Though it was not anywhere close to sunset, Pavo had learned early on that patience and preparedness where necessary when dealing with his plan. So first he heads to the street to see what he can find out about the people who live at this address.Lancet street hmm? Well, lets see what this is all about.
Dorran leaves the barracks and heads over to his superiors quarters and knocks. Upon hearing the word enter, Dorran hastily opens the door and stands before Sergeant Magyar and says while saluting " Sir something came up and I need to take an immediate leave,sir it at all possible" then pausing for a moment Dorran takes a breath then continues " a situation has come up that requires my absolute attention" This last coming across as almost a silent plea which is much different then Dorran's usual demeanor. He waits paietiently for his sergeant respond.
While he waits Dorran absently rubs the handle to the bastard sword at his waist and wonders if his time has come to get revenge on the person he blamed for ruining his life and wonders who they could be. Of all the memories Dorran had as a child his ones that he cherished the most from what he remembered after the overdose was a boy, Sorin.
Marra turns onto Lancet Street as the sun is beginning its slow descent in the late afternoon sky. She looks about with a critical eye, taking note of the address specified on the back of her Harrow card. 3 Lancet Street looks ordinary enough, a simple residence much like all the others along this thoroughfare. She leans against another home across the street and watches and waits. She sees a number of dark-haired people in brightly colored clothing moving about on this street...native Varisians, most like. Women with baskets of laundry, old men laughing at a jest, numerous children running free with their dogs. No one pays Marra any mind, and no one seems out of place. After half an hour, she sees someone different, however. A little boy with blonde hair turns onto the street and looks around cautiously. His light hair certainly stands out in this neighborhood.
Sorin, in turn, takes the neighborhood in quickly as he turns onto Lancet Street. With the practiced eye of a resident of the streets, it becomes quickly clear to him that this is a Varisian neighborhood. It only takes him a moment to spot the masked woman with red sash and cloak loitering nearby.
Meanwhile, Pavo hurries through the Midland streets, eager to arrive for the offered rendezvous. As he strides purposefully through the crowds, Alistar clings tightly to his shoulder so as not to fly off. Pavo wracks his brain carefully, thinking back to the various parts of Korvosa he's visited, searching for any word of Alexandria. Lancet Street...was that part of a Varisian neighborhood? He thinks it is. Wasn't there a woman who told fortunes out of her home on that street? Pavo thinks so, but her name eludes him.
Clandru, shortly after, dashes forth from the large double doors of the Bank of Abadar. Third Secretary Aminar hadn't been too sympathetic to the young acolyte's pleas for an early dismissal, but finally the rigid man waved Clandru away...probably just to get him to stop interrupting his work, if nothing else. Clandru jogs briskly through the streets. If he hurries, he should be able to reach the Midland District just before sunset.
Dorran, meanwhile, exits the quarters of Sergeant Magyar in elation, just barely suppressing a whoop of triumph. Standing before the hard-nosed sergeant had been difficult, and in the tense moments of silence following his request, he half-expected Magyar to erupt in one of the profane tirades Dorran knew too well. But the bluff-faced sergeant had finally only said, "Well...if you feel that strongly about it...you'd best go. I'll be here when you come back to kick you in the backside." Dorran swiftly gathers his few possessions from the barracks and leaves at a dash for 3 Lancet Street.
Sorin scans the street and shop, Nothing to alarming, although that girl seems familiar. Sorin walks up to the shop and stops at the door. Well I have waited to long to just stand here., he braces himself for trouble, opens the door and steps in.
watches the halfling go into the building...
"Who was that? So, familiar..."
Clandru blinks in the setting sun . Looking around , he spots one of the urchin usually loitering near the bank and pay him a silver piece to go to his mother's dwelling to inform us something has come up and he is going to Lancet Street following a possible source of information in regard to Gaedren .
Moving then briskly , he soon arrive in the neighborhood and enters the house .
As Pavo arrives on Lancet street, he heads down the street towards the meeting place. Looking around, he sees his guess was right, this is a Varisian neighborhood and his light skin and blue eyes attact the stares of a few passerbys for more than his good looks. Alistar relaxing a bit now that the sorcerer had slowed his pace, the little monkey looks around curiously at what all the people are doing. Stopping in from of 3 Lancet street, Pavo stands in front of the house and seems to stare at the house for a bit before taking a deep breath and moving to the door. Letting a firm rap resound on the wooden door, he will wait for a short bit before trying the door knob, pulling the Harrow card from his pocket as he does in case someone approaches him for his trespass.
Marra watches the others enter and thinks, Well if it's a trap it's not just for me...because those aren't Lamm's flunkies and she begins to move toward the door. apprehension grips her as she wonders if Lamm will finally get what's coming to him. She opens the door and steps inside...
Arriving slightly winded after the run from the barracks Dorran stands a few houses away to quickly scan the street for any signs of a trap. The only person that happens to catch his eye is a young human female going up to the very door that he was summoned to.
Memories began to flood Dorran's mind like a bittersweet day dream. Nameless faces pass by with a couple of them that lingered. His friend Sorin he recognized as one of the faces and another belong to a girl. M something was the girls name, but Dorran couldn't place it. Another face took the girl's place, this one Dorran could point out in the dead of night. This one he blamed for the ruining of his life with the drug shiver and the ruining of his friendship with Sorin. Gaedren Lamm.
With grim determination set in his expression Dorran walked up to the door and entered with a hand on his sword and eyes that quickly take everything in
Sorin takes one last look around the street, then reaches out and tries the doorknob. The door swings open freely, and Sorin steps inside.
Inside, a cozy chamber within the small home is filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice. The haze comes from several sticks of incense smouldering in wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly-winged elves. The smoke itself seems to soften edges and gives the room a dream-like feel. The walls are draped with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black-skulled beast juggling men’s hearts, another showing a pair of angels dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on the far wall depicts a tall hooded figure shrouded in mist, a flaming sword held in a skeletal hand. Several brightly-colored rugs cover the floor, but the room’s only furnishings are a wooden table covered by a bright red throwcloth and six elegant tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue cloth sits under the table.
Upon the table, Sorin sees a simple hand-written note, weighed down by a stone paperweight.
Sorin reads the note carefully, but before he can do anything further, the door opens again and a man clad in the vestments of an Abadarian cleric steps through.
Sorin wipes around his hand on his sword and slowly backs to the table.
"Who are you?" Sorin bluntly asks? "I am guessing you do not own this shop."
Clandru looks a bit surprised at such a greeting .
"Where did you learn to speak to a priest like this ? And do take your hand from your weapon . you would not be able to kill me without giving me the time of shouting . The good people outside would certainly tell the guard what you look like if they don't arrest you themselves . Now , from your question , you are not the proprietor of THIS HOME. so where is he ? '
Sorin glares at the priest but relaxes and drops his hand from his sword, "You might get have time to yell.... no I do not own this place." Sorin steps away from the table and points to the note. "I was summoned here to meet with the owner, I assume."
Sorin grabs the basket and puts it on the table. He searches through the basket and grabs a piece of bread and looks at the bottle. "So what brings a man of Abadar to a place like this? I wouldn't think you would be into fortune telling."
Not bad wine, exceptionally since it is free. Gaedren wouldn't be this subtle if he wanted me dead. He probably doesn't even know I am alive. he thinks as he pours himself a glass, finds a seat on a nice cushioned chair and settles his gaze on the priest.
As dusk falls, Marra opens the door, her eyes taking a few moments to adjust to the darkness. She hears the exchange between the priest and the halfling...that voice...
"Sori? SORI? is that you? The last day I saw you was when you fled from that pile of dung!" Her eyes flash with anger, then it fades back to the dead eyes she's "It's me Marra..I got away two years ago" her voice is almost as dead as her eyes...
Marra looks around the residence
"I got invited here as well...where's our host?"
Following just a few minutes behind Maralla is a very good-looking man of chalaxian descent with a small monkey resting on his shoulder. Hanging from his hip is an engraved tome of some sort and the pommel of a kukri can be seen sheathed on his other hip. His clothes, though plain, are well maintained and he has an air of confidence that can be seen in the playful gaze in his eyes. He scans the others in the room, settling on each for a second before moving on to the other. "So you all must be the 'others' that the fortune-teller was talking about." he says as he holds up a small harrow card for everyone to see. "The name is Pavo Alazario. I am a wizard from the Midlands. And this here is Alistar." he continues as he motions towards the monkey that is curiously looking as seemingly everything in the room. Spotting the basket of food, the small capuchin immediatly scampers down Pavo's body and makes a beeline for the basket, poking around the contents to find anything that might be edible.
"Harrower..." Marra buts in, "They prefer Harrower, not fortune teller"
As she moves over to check out the basket as well...
"Sori? SORI? is that you? The last day I saw you was when you fled from that pile of dung!"
Sorin looks at the young girl trying to place the face. "Ah Marrala, now I remember you, you have grown and you face looks a little....... different." Sorin grimaces at the last part. "I wouldn't say I fled, Gaedren tossed my body in an ally after that cowardly gnome newly killed me." Sorin takes a sip of his wine as memories flash though his head. He shaking his head as if to banish those memories and turns to Marrala, "How did you escape?" he asks as the door opens again. He watches the monkey leap to the table and his hand instinctively creeps towards one of his daggers. That thing looks to much like a choker for my comfort. Sorin thinks as he remembers the close call he had with a choker in the Shingles last month. Getting a hold of himself and forcing himself to relax he turns to the new comer. "welcome I gather you are not the person we are waiting for."
With his hand still on his sword Dorran enters the house and quickly scans the people inside. Hmm he says to himself a priest of Abadar, a man with a monkey. Then his eyes fall on the halfling. Even through his military training Dorran's eyes cant help but widen. Could it be his childhood friend. Dorran's hand slacks from his sword and he continues to stare dumbfounded. Just like that Dorran shakes it off.
"Sorin that you?" Dorran pauses for a breath then continues "Its Dorran. I havent seen... " Dorran stops as his eyes come upon the human girl. As he looks at her Dorran says " Those eyes. I remember them. Mmm...Marr.." Dorran stutters as he tries to remember the girls name. "Marra" he finally says with a half a smile. "My gods how have you guys been? How many years have gone by?" Dorran again gets choked up. Remembering that he is a solider Dorran regains his composure.
"When did you guys get away from Gaedren? And what have you been up to all this time?"
Realising that he had yet to introduce himself to the others in the room Dorran stands straight backed and salutes " Private First-Class Dorran Kelvar of the Endrin Military Academy." This last is said with a sense of pride in the youngman's voice. He then asks each in turn "Who might you be?" Dorran then reaches for a piece of bread and some drink then finds a seat.
Sorins eyes widen when Dorran walks through the door. "Dorran your alive....... Gaedren said you overdosed on shiver. I thought you were dead and gone." Sorin's head swims with the only descent memories he has. He stands up from the chair and walks over to his friend. As Sorin nears he throws a fist into Dorran's stomach. His fist hit's Dorrans armor, doing more damage to his small fist than the bigger man but it was the act more than that counts. "That was for selling me out all those years ago." He grabs Dorrans hand and shakes it. "It is good to see you, my friend."
As she moves over to check out the basket as well...
" So he DID keep some children "
Turning to Pavo Alazario 'I am Clandru Krupter and it does seem we were indeed all lured here.'
"Yeah, my face does look a little different, courtesy of that pig Lamm."
"I spent 10 years under Lamm's thumb...now I want them as trophies, since he took the only thing I cared for."
Sorin turns to Clandru and Pavo, "It seems that the three of us have had the unfortunate opportunity to meet Gaedren Lamm but I get the impression that you two have not. What has he done to you two then?"
"Lamm doesn't just keep some Children, he has a stable of children, almost his entire operation is children."
"Dorran, I remember you vaguely...you escaped years before I did, I only escaped two years ago, I escaped with my life, but I left someone behind..." as she strokes Calliope's war razor absent-mindedly
" I did have an overdose that nearly ended my life but a druid had actually saved me and cleansed my body of the poison and healed me." Dorran says as he returns Sorin handshake. "It was then that I had decided to leave Gaedren and exhile myself to the woods and nature surrounding the city. For 5 years I was gone and since I came back joined the elite ranks at the Endrin Military Academy and have been there for the past 2 years."
Dorran then looks at the other 2 in the room while Sorin asks his question
Further conversation is forestalled as the door to the simple home and fortune teller's shop opens once more. An attractive, middle-aged Varisian woman with long dark hair enters from the street, and smiles at the motley assemblage.
"Good evening to you all," the woman says in a soft but clear voice, thick with a Varisian accent. "I am Zellara, and I welcome you into my home." The woman walks over to the table and seats herself, gesturing with a nod for the adventurers to do the same. "So then, before we begin...may I have the honor of your names?" Zellara casually reaches into a pocket and produces a deck of Harrow cards. With practiced fluidity, she begins idly shuffling the cards as she awaits the expected replies.
Sorin steps up in front of everyone so she can see him, "I am Sorin and I am interested in the information you have on Gaedren Lamm."
"Mi lady, Private First-Class Dorran Kelvar of the Endrin Military Academy" Dorran again says while saluting then returns to his seat as the woman suggested and listens intently
Sorin steps up in front of everyone so she can see him, "I am Sorin and I am interested in the information you have on Gaedren Lamm."
"I should certainly hope so, my little rabbit prince," Zellara replies with a smile.
"Mi lady, Private First-Class Dorran Kelvar of the Endrin Military Academy" Dorran again says while saluting then returns to his seat as the woman suggested and listens intently
Zellara sizes up the ranger's formal greeting. "Ah, yes, the big sky, free from your bonds at last. Please be at ease, good sir."
As you know since you asked me to come here , I am Clandru Krupter in the service of Abadar .
As you know since you asked me to come here , I am Clandru Krupter in the service of Abadar .
Zellara laughs. "Ah, but there is knowing and there is knowing, acolyte Krupter. Until this moment, I knew you as the winged serpent, cunning and wise...but nameless. Now we are better acquainted."
"I am Marra. Greetings Zellara. Any enemy of Gaedren is a friend of mine, are you a friend then?"
Pavo was just about to respond to Sorin's question as well as ask a few of his own when the door opened and their host arrived. Seating himself at the table, He says, "I am Pavo Alazario. And this..." he says as Alistar once more returns to his shoulder, ...is Alistar. Now I have to agree with our blond acquaintance here in that I am interested in hearing about what you know about this Gaedren Lamm. While I don't seem to share the history with Lamm as some of these others seem to share, someone I care for has been kidnapped and I think he knows where I can find them. as such...I need to find him."
"I am Marra. Greetings Zellara. Any enemy of Gaedren is a friend of mine, are you a friend then?"
Zellara studies the masked woman's scarred face for a moment, then murmurs, "The forge. Still strong, but the embers have burned low. I think you will find me a very good friend indeed, Marra."
Pavo was just about to respond to Sorin's question as well as ask a few of his own when the door opened and their host arrived. Seating himself at the table, He says, "I am Pavo Alazario. And this..." he says as Alistar once more returns to his shoulder, ...is Alistar. Now I have to agree with our blond acquaintance here in that I am interested in hearing about what you know about this Gaedren Lamm. While I don't seem to share the history with Lamm as some of these others seem to share, someone I care for has been kidnapped and I think he knows where I can find them. as such...I need to find him."
Zellara offers a small chunk of bread to Alistar as she replies to Pavo, "A sentiment shared by all in this room, oh noble unicorn. Now please, all of you sit, and we shall see what we shall see."
Once everyone has been seated at the table, Zellara continues. "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 this, 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.”
Sorin can barely restrain himself from rushing out the door to the Fishery but he can tell she probably isn't done talking with them.
"I can confirm that location, I have been watching them for the last two years, sometimes they move and I lose them for a month or two, but this is a relatively new hide-away, I could not take them alone, but with you, my Brothers-in-Harm, I know we can take him down. May each of us gain the vengeance which we desire."
I have several problems with what you are saying
You are trying to be obscure about the way you contacted us and it's not sitting well with me but it's not that important. What's important is that a man like Gaedren must not die in private but must be seen to hang publicly after a judgement . It's the best way to dissuade othes of his ilk to engage in the same type of work .
Vengeance is nothing without Justice after all .
Now , it's true that someone like him could have informers in the Guard so it seems indeed the best way is to make a citizen's arrest and then to march him to the courts of justice "
Sorin looks up at Clandru, "I don't care either way but I would wait until you meet the man and see what he does to his unfortunates before you say such things. This man is a disease and must be eliminated."
Sorin turns back to Zellara and finishes under his breath, "The gnome will die by my hand no matter what."
"That slime will not stand trial, he would walk minutes after his incarceration due to corruption, it's happened before..."
"He WILL die, by Our hands Sorin"
"You want justice priest, fine he shall be tried by his victims, prosecuted by those he's injured and executed by those he's wronged!"
Marra says with conviction and fire in her voice...tears welling up in her eyes.
Sorin give Marra a little node in return.