Tain’s Journal
Smooth Sailing?
Mid morning, the 19th of Calistril
Brock House
As Gavik showed me into the entry hall of Brock House, I noticed a new painting hanging on the wall – a painting that had been hanging in Trinia Sabore’s apartment.
Marcus, Marianna and Ariadnae were in the sitting room, just beginning a light brunch. “I noticed you have some new artwork Marcus,” I commented, after greetings and pleasantries had been exchanged and I had settled into a seat.
“Yes, a Trinia Sabore orginal,” said Marcus. “I figure they could end up being quite valuable – no point them going to waste really is there? She’s done a really rather good one of King Eodred too, I expect it’s the last portrait painted of him before he took ill. I was thinking of sending it to the Queen as a gift – something to remember her late husband by.”
“That’s an idea,” I replied. “The note could read ‘Dear Queen Ileosa, I hope you enjoy this painting of your dead husband, as painted by the woman accused of his murder, who by the way has escaped your custody.’ She shall enjoy that.”
“Oh. Well …” Marcus obviously hadn’t thought about it like that. Mari and Aria laughed at his discomfort. “Good point, but no need to get sarcastic about it. Isn’t sarcasm against your code as a paladin? Anyway, I thought this was a social call Tain,” Marcus nodded at the studded leather I wore beneath my tabard, and the customary flail at my belt. “Why the weapons and armour? Expecting trouble?”
“No, I’m not expecting trouble,” I replied. “If I was I’d be wearing heavier armour. But it never hurts to be prepared.” Marcus rolled his eyes.
“It’s not entirely a social call,” said Aria. “Tain and I also wanted to update the rest of you on what we have discovered about some of the goings-on in the city.”
“Oh come now Ari,” Marcus said, “We’ve already saved the day! Killed the villain, rescued the girl, tracked down the wanted criminal, saved the Queen … there’s nothing for us to do but sit back and let the money roll in.”
“Let me remind you,” I began seriously, “that Trinia has escaped, as has the would be assassin. The underworld war has turned out to involve a dangerous cult – or two.”
“That’s what I mean,” said Marcus, who seemed to be in a jovial mood. “Everything that could go wrong has already gone wrong – it’s all smooth sailing from here!”
“Anyway,” Mari interrupted before I could retort. “Aria, I think you were going to tell us what you had found out about the plague in Old Korvosa?”
Aria nodded, and proceeded to do just that, with me interjecting from time to time with things I had discovered. Mari and Marcus listened, asking questions every now and again. Soon enough, the summary came to an end.
“Marcus, have you considered the suggestion I made to you last week – purchasing enough scrolls of Remove Disease to protect your household, just in case?” Aria asked once she was finished.
“Well … that’s a rather expensive proposition Ari,” Marcus replied evasively.
“I thought you had done rather well out of your business deal with Ambassador Amprei,” I said, an eyebrow raised questioningly.
“Yes actually, but my assets are all rather tied up in property as you know – not exactly liquid. I’ll think about it Ari, but as you said, the threat seems to be well contained.” Marcus looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled. “Besides, I happen to have a cousin and a brother in law as members of two of the most important temples in the city; if there is a disease outbreak, I’m sure I can get access to some protection quickly. Now, what else did you have to tell us Ari?”
Aria seemed a little disgruntled with Marcus’s blasé attitude towards her warning, but was eager to tell us what more she had learnt regarding the Harbingers. A summary of her findings is as follows.
The Harbingers of Doom
The Harbingers are a cult founded upon the goal of bringing the god Aroden back to life by fulfilling prophecies - any prophecy - listed in their holy book, The Book of 1,000 Whispers. The Harbingers are known as The Harbingers of Fate in their native Absalom, but have taken the name the Harbingers of Doom in Korvosa.
The Harbingers were founded in 4648 AR by Lord Garron, an ousted noble of Cheliax and faithful follower of Aroden. A mercenary and adventurer, Lord Garron discovered the Book of 1,000 Whispers, a tome of prophecies predicting events from 4604 AR to 4714 AR. Seeing that those predicted to come to pass before 4605 AR had done so, Lord Garron became convinced that if he could make a prophecy from his book come true, he could re-write fate and bring about the Age of Glory, and possibly even the return of Aroden. He created the Harbingers of Fate, a secret group of believers in the book’s veracity, and tasked them with ensuring that one of the destinies outlined within came to pass.
The Book of 1,000 Whispers has just 6 years left to run before its predictions run out. The current leaders of The Harbingers feel they have just these 6 years left in which to bring about any prophecy related to Aroden - even ones not mentioned in the Book of 1000 Whispers. Perhaps the time limit really only applies to the prophecies in The Book - but the leaders are not willing to risk losing their chance to bring Aroden back.
Some stories have surfaced through hard research, showing The Harbingers desperation and determination in bringing about prophecies. One member spent more than 20 years taking pregnant women to the top of a nearby mountain every winter and leaving them to give birth in the elements, believing one would eventually live and fulfill a prophecy he felt was important. No mother or baby ever lived through these treks.
Tain’s Journal
A Summons
Mid morning, the 19th of Calistril
Brock House
“So you see,” concluded Aria, “not only are these Harbingers foolish – most theologians agree that no act of mortals can return a dead god to life – and Aroden is truly dead – they are mad and dangerous too. Who knows what prophecies they may be trying to force, and what implications that might have for Korvosa?” She shook her head. “As much as all of that … trying to force these prophecies as they are doing is blasphemous in the eyes of Lady Pharasma. They must be stopped.”
We all certainly agreed in principle with Aria’s words, but our subsequent short discussion proved that we did not know where to immediately start.
“You’re not the only one who has been looking into things,” Mari spoke up. “Marcus and I have been doing a little research into the Queen’s background – and Trinia’s. As it turns out, Queen Ileosa and Lady Elizabeth have been friends since childhood. Ileosa’s father was a wealthy merchant in Egorian – so she’s not nobility by birth – and Elizabeth the daughter of a close family friend. The pair were brought up by the same nanny.”
“Good fortune for her that she caught King Eodred’s eye,” commented Aria.
“Yes,” Mari continued. “But here’s the interesting thing. Trinia was the daughter of a scullery maid in Ileosa’s household, but she was also under the care of Ileosa and Elizabeth’s nanny – which is pretty unusual.” She probably added the last for my benefit, given that I was likely the only one in the room not raised at least in part by a nanny or a nurse or someone similar.
“Hmmm.” I stroked the neatly trimmed beard at my chin. “And do we know who Trinia’s father was?”
“No,” answered Mari. “Which suggests we probably do in fact. It’s very likely that Ileosa and Trinia are half sisters.”
“Which adds to the mystery of why the Queen is blaming Trinia for Eodred’s death,” I said.
“Maybe not.” Marcus shrugged. “You were an only child weren’t you Tain? Then you’ve never experienced sibling rivalry …” He and Mari exchanged smiles.
Our conversation was interrupted by a ring of the door bell. “Probably Agon,” Marcus suggested. “I’ve put food on, I was wondering when he’d sniff it out.”
Momentarily Dante entered to announce the new arrivals (Gavick no doubt being off entertaining one of the maids as usual). “There are same Guardsmen here to see you Master Merivanchi,” he said.
“Ah, show Agon in,” Marcus said.
“Not Mister Deparle,” Dante replied. “Different Guardsmen. They were most insistent on speaking to you sir.”
The two Korvosan Guards entered the room, standing stiffly. One of them took a rolled scroll from his belt pouch and read from it.
“Marcus Merivanchi?” he asked, looking down at his list and then back up at Marcus. The nobleman nodded, and the Guard looked back down at his list. “And are your companions here, uh, Marianna Merivanchi, Ariadnae Merivanchi, and Tain Locus?”
“Yes, that is us,” I replied. “What do you need of us?”
“Well sirs and ladies, I need you to come with me, directly, to Citadel Volshyenek, at the order of Field Marshal Cressida Kroft,” the Guardsman replied formally.
“Are we under arrest?” asked Marcus sharply.
“No sir,” replied the Guard. “But if you do not accompany me I shall have to, regretfully, place you under arrest.”
“Constable, may I see that writ you hold?” I asked, reaching out my hand for the parchment. The Guard hesitated, then nodded and handed it over. I studied it carefully for a few moments, then looked up at Marcus. “There is no mention of us being under arrest – or indeed what this is all about. It is, as the constable said, an official summons from the Field Marshal. It appears to be genuine, and the constable is correct in saying that he could place us under arrest if we do not comply.”
Marcus sighed. “All right, we’ll come with you. Just give us a few minutes to get ready. In the meantime, if you two want something to eat, you’re welcome to help yourself – the kitchen’s just through there.”
The Guard shook his head. “No thankyou sir. We’ll just wait here.”
Marcus sighed again, and looked at us before he headed upstairs to change. “Five gold sails says that this is Agon’s fault. Or Felix’s. Or both …”
Tain’s Journal
The Marshal’s Court
Late morning, the 19th of Calistril
Citadel Volshyenek
Field Marshal Cressida Kroft was in full dress uniform, in her position at the front of the small courtroom within Citadel Volshyenek. - a courtroom that was typically used for court-marshal proceedings. She nodded briefly in our direction as the four of us were shown to seats near the front of the room, but did not otherwise acknowledge us. The room was filled with Guards, most of whom I did not know, being in a different platoon to the one I had been in.
“Bring in the accused,” the Field Marshal called, and marched into the chamber between two burly Guards came Agon - unless it was Felix.
“Told you,” whispered Marcus.
“Agon Deparle,” began Field Marshal Kroft. “Of late there have been grave concerns regarding aspects of your performance. Bailiff, please take Mister Deparle’s sword from him.” The court official took away the blade that was part of Agon’s uniform. Our friend - for it was indeed Agon - looked across the chamber at us, a look of disbelief on his face. Although I had never quite understood why (Agon was extremely good at his job - but sometimes it did not seem to quite fit his temperament), being in the Guard was very important to him. I prepared to stand, to ask to hear the charges, but before I could act, the Field Marshal spoke again.
“In it’s place, please give him this sword,” Kroft handed the bailiff a finely made sword and scabbard - an officer’s sword. “Congratulations Lieutenant Deparle. It is true, concerns have been raised regarding aspects of your performance; I do not wish to hear of your brother wearing your uniform again, and I would advise against drawing the Queen’s bodyguard away from her duty in future. However, you have achieved much over the past few weeks. You have acted with distinction in your official duties, keeping the peace, quelling unrest, returning our city to order. And you have gone beyond the call of duty - the first Guardsman on the scene for a Code Brown, helping to quell a dangerous and ancient evil beneath our streets, and most importantly, your part in capturing the fugitive Trinia Sabore,” Kroft glanced up at a seemingly random point on the ceiling, “even if she did not remain long in our custody.”
The Field Marshal stood. “Ladies and gentlemen, Lieutenant Agon Deparle.” I stood and began to clap, shortly followed by the rest of the room. Nearby Guards began clapping Agon on the back and shaking his hand. “Apologies for the hazing Lieutenant Deparle,” laughed Kroft. “You know, traditions to be upheld.”
Agon made his way over to us. “Well, that was exciting,” he grinned. “Let’s hit the public house. Drinks are on me.”
“That would be appropriate,” said the Field Marshal, who had come up behind us, “given the circumstances. But don’t get too drunk. I’d like you - all of you - to report back to me this evening to discuss a different matter.”
Agon saluted. “Yes ma’am. If you need us before then, we’ll be at the Dancing Cyclops.”
Tain’s Journal
Merriment and Melancholy at the Dancing Cyclops
Midday, the 19th of Calistril
The Dancing Cyclops Inn and Tavern
The Dancing Cyclops was a soldier’s tavern, mainly by virtue of its proximity to Citadel Volshyenek. That the place served good fare, had reasonable prices and regular entertainment only helped.
Today there seemed to be an awful lot of off duty Guards in the place, and as many of them as could were taking advantage of Agon’s generosity – I hoped for his sake his promotion came with a reasonable pay increase, or he’d by paying off today’s bar tab for weeks to come.
For my part, I merely sipped slowly at the first ale purchased for me, for several reasons. Drinking to excess during the day did not seem proper, and besides, Field Marshal Kroft had suggested she may wish to see us later … but that was not the only thing. I found myself rather melancholy and thoughtful. I should have been happy for my friend’s promotion – I was happy for him – but the discovery of how the promotion had come about had soured things for me somewhat.
Upon arrival at the tavern, Agon had told us the story. He had, it turns out, approached Lady Elizabeth soon after she had first tasked us with finding Trinia, and offered her a deal, being that if he delivered Trinia into custody prior to the Queen’s coronation, he would be promoted.
It troubled me, not just that Agon had made such a deal, but that he had felt the need. I believe that were it not for his brother, Agon would already have been promoted, on the strength of his performance and deeds over the past weeks. I could not understand why Agon allowed Felix to lead the life he did - why he did not steer him away from that path, or, if needs be, arrest him. Oh, I knew why - the bond of family - but I did not understand it. If he truly loved his brother, Agon should steer him to a path that would not so imperil his neck - or his soul.
As my thoughts meandered such paths, it occurred to me that perhaps I was not so different. Mari was like a sister to me, and I condoned - even encouraged - her use of magic, despite the possible danger to her, and the fact that it was against the laws of the Acadamae. Of course, the law of the Acadamae was not the law of the city, but the crown did not contradict the Acadamae when it came to magic, and tacitly approved of their draconian measures. And when Mari had begged me not to hand Trinia over to the Guard, I had seriously considered it.
It was Agon who had talked me out of this course of action, speaking eloquently and passionately of duty, orders, and Trinia’s safety. At the time I had been thankful that he had reminded me of my duty; now I wondered if he was only concerned about his own promotion.
I sighed. I claimed not to hold others to the high ideals I tried to live to, and yet I here I was, thinking the worst of my friend when we were supposed to be celebrating with him.
I tried to turn my mind to more charitable thoughts, but it was difficult to shake my melancholic mood. Why had Lady Elizabeth agreed to Agon’s deal? Why was she, or the Queen, so desperate to get hold of Trinia? If they had legitimate proof against her, why not have the entire Guard (and the Sable Company, and the church of Abadar) looking for her? If there was no proof, why were they so determined to pin this crime on her, especially given the history between the three of them?
I was roused from my reverie by a commotion from outside, heard faintly over the noise in the tavern - shouts, jeers, yells and laughter, distant, but growing closer. I looked up, looked to Aria and Mari who sat talking together at the table (Agon and Marcus were at the bar).
“Did you hear that?” I asked. The women nodded, and the three of us looked over at the open door of the tavern which looked out onto the street, just in time to see a man dash past. He was yelling incoherently as he ran, his eyes and hair were wild … and he was completely and utterly naked.
Tain’s Journal
The Naked Man
Early afternoon, the 19th of Calistril
I quickly made my way out onto the street, with Mari and Aria close behind. By the time I got outside, the naked man, who was running fast, was well past The Dancing Cyclops. People in the busy street alternatively cheered or jeered him, or else yelped in shock as he ran past, but generally tried to get out of his way.
Glancing back in the direction he had come I saw two armoured men, wearing the livery of the church of Abadar puffing and staggering along. Clearly they had chased the naked man this far, but were fast losing the race.
I looked back at the naked man, almost out of sight at the end of the street. Not only was he Causing A Public Spectacle and Disturbing the Peace, but it appeared he was also Resisting Arrest. I broke into a run after him.
Unhindered by either armour or clothes, the man would have been faster than I even in the light armour I wore this day, and he had a good lead. But I was fresh, whereas he had run a long distance and must have been beginning to tire (though his wild yells did not show it). As we weaved through the crowded streets and narrow lanes I began to gain on him, but not by much.
Suddenly, I heard my name called from just behind me, and glanced back to see Mari riding towards me fast (sidesaddle of course) on a tall brown gelding. I did not immediately know where she had found a horse, or where she had learnt to ride so well, but I soon realized that magic must account for one or both. “Get on,” she called, pulling on the reins and sliding out of the saddle. I quickly mounted, Mari moving to sit behind me, and I kicked the horse forward into a fast canter.
Using magic to summon a horse (as Mari later explained she had done) was potentially dangerous if any agents of the Acadamae were around, but I mentally thanked Mari for doing so – thanks to the speed of the beast we quickly caught up with the man, who was beginning to puff and slow, looking wildly about and tugging at his hair as he jogged.
I guided the horse beside him, then, judging my moment, leapt from the saddle onto his back, knocking the air from him and sending him sprawling to the hard cobbles, with me atop him. He gasped as his bare body slid painfully across the cobbles, and lay still for a brief moment, giving me a chance to grab his arm and pull it behind his body. In a moment he began struggling frantically, yelling and screaming incoherently (or in some foreign tongue), frothing at the mouth, his eyes wide. He had a strength borne of madness, but in his position he was hard pressed to fight me, and I was able to hold him until his struggles began to grow more feeble (though his cries did not).
“Tain, is there anything I can do to help?” Mari called, having taken the reins of the horse once again, and circling the naked man and I at a distance.
“No, best stay back,” I replied, as suspicions began to form in my mind as to what might afflict this man. Pinning down his weakly struggling form with a knee and one hand, I unhooked a pair of manacles from my belt and clapped them around his wrists. “Do what you can to keep people away,” I continued to Mari, nodding towards the curious on-lookers who were beginning to gather.
The man’s appearance and demeanour suggested that he was insane, and although it may simply have been paranoia playing on my mind, it had occurred to me that madness was one of the symptoms of the disease that the Hellknights and Acadamae were containing in Old Korvosa. I had really only gotten a good look at the man’s darkly suntanned back (and his far less tanned buttocks and legs), but I could see no sign of necrotic flesh. I sniffed, seeking the foul odour that had been described as another symptom - I did not find it, but instead smelt a curious, sweet fragrance something like slightly overripe fruit emanating from the man. I wondered if this was perhaps a sign of an early stage of the disease, or if some scent or perfume had been applied to disguise a less pleasant stench.
Aria arrived, breathing heavily from her dash through the streets after Mari and myself, her black skirt caught up in one hand, and approached to assist me. “No, stay back,” I warned again. “I suspect this man may be a plague carrier.” Abadar had granted me the gift of divine health; so long as my faith was strong I could not get sick. I did not think Aria so protected.
The cleric hesitated before moving forward again, halting only a few feet from us. “If I examine him I may be able to tell for certain,” she said.
I shook my head. “It’s too dangerous. Let me be your hands - tell me what to do.”
Aria looked at me for a moment. “Alright,” she said. “Start by turning him over, I want to see his face properly.”
Ignoring his hoarse cries, and the spittle that flew from between his cracked lips and matted his beard, I manhandled him onto his back. His features revealed him as hailing from the far south or east. He was skinny, but with corded, wiry muscles - except for his stomach, which was rounded, stretched, distended - almost like that of a woman in the mid stages of pregnancy. He had a tattoo on his ribs; three daggers radiating out from a circle. Aria and I both recognised it as the holy symbol of Callistra, the goddess of lust, chaos and vengeance. More disturbing were the scars covering his belly. One of these poorly healed scars had split open, probably when I knocked him to the ground, and now oozed blood and pus.
Aria shook her head, looking concerned. “That’s very wrong,” she muttered, then, louder, to me, “Tain, press on his stomach, around here,” gesturing, “tell me what you feel.”
I pressed my fingers into his flesh where Aria had indicated, and felt resistance, something hard, like bone where there should be none. I told Aria as much, and her face paled.
“Dear Pharasma,” she said. “They’ve cut him open and put something inside him.”
Tain’s Journal
What was in there?
Afternoon, the 19th of Calistril
By this point, Marcus had arrived on the scene. Aria directed him to control the growing crowd of curious on-lookers, then moved to speak quietly to Mari for a few moments. From atop her horse, Mari nodded, made a few subtle gestures, looked my way, the whispered something to Aria.
“It’s magic,” Aria said in a low voice as she returned to stand next to me. “The thing inside him, although Mari is having trouble determining exactly what type or how strong it is.”
I nodded, gazing intently at the man I held (he was beginning to struggle again) with the second sight granted me by Abadar. “It’s evil too,” I said, as my vision detected a faint aura of evil radiating from the man’s stomach, “or at least the method, or person, or intent that put it inside him was.” I looked around. “We have to get him away from all these people,” I added.
Just about then the two servants of Abadar who had originally been chasing the man arrived. The sight of them seemed to send my captive into a second wind, and he began struggling again, and despite his bonds it took almost all my strength to hold him down. I was quite unable to return the salute the two gave me.
“You two – where did this man come from?” Aria asked, in an authoritative tone. One of the men looked at me before answering – I gave him a quick nod.
“We chased him from the docks ma’am,” the church guard replied. “He was from a ship called the Perraxian Eagle – it arrived in port last night, but had not yet cleared a customs inspection … the entire crew appeared to be drunk or some-such. This one managed to slip off, not a slip on.” He gave an embarrassed smile at the joke.
“Not drunk,” replied Aria grimly. “Now, I need you to get to Citadel Volshyenek with all haste – report to a senior officer that we have a situation here potentially similar to the one in Old Korvosa that the Hellknights are containing. Please impress the seriousness of this. Have them send a wagon over to pick this man up, and have them send word to the Acadamae.”
“Ah …” the guard hesitated, glancing at me. “Ma’am, we would normally report something like this first to the Bank of Abadar, or the dockmaster …”
“Do exactly what my cousin says,” I spoke up from the ground, having contained the naked man’s struggles for now. “The Citadel is closer than the Bank, and this is a situation for haste. Report to the Bank once you have been to the Citadel. Now run!”
The two church guards quickly saluted, then turned and jogged back up the street.
***
It was perhaps fifteen minutes later that a covered wagon drawn by a team of fast horses came careening down the street towards us. Out from the back leaped two men wearing the robes of Acadame wizards, supplemented by heavy leather aprons, thick gloves, and half masks that covered their mouths and noses.
They quickly assessed the situation, which had me still pinning the naked man to the ground with my knee, then addressed myself and Aria, who was still standing nearby (Marcus, with the situation of a Guard patrol, had the onlookers either dispersed or keeping well back; Mari had made herself scarce). “Who else has touched or been in close proximity to this man?” the mage asked, his voice muffled by the mask.
“As far as I can tell, only I have had physical contact with him,” I said. “I didn’t observe his entire run through the streets, but from what I did see, he didn’t touch anyone. Since he’s been here, only I have touched him, and only the priestess,” I indicated Aria, “has approached closer than about ten feet.”
The mages looked at each other for a moment. “Alright, get him into the back of the wagon,” the speaker told me. “And both of you had best travel in there with him just to be safe.”
I looked to Aria, concern for her on my face, but she simply raised her eyebrows slightly, then nodded, a sudden look of steely determination in her eyes. I didn’t try to argue, either with her or the wizards. It was easy enough to manhandle my prisoner into the wagon – the fight had gone out of him, and he seemed only barely conscious, dazed. Aria and I got in behind him, and one of the wizards closed the heavy wooden door behind us. We heard the sound of a bolt being snapped shut from the outside. A moment later, the wagon began to move.
The interior compartment of the wagon that we found ourselves in was solidly constructed of timber, a square cell about eight feet to a side. Narrow benches ran along two of the sides, and the door at the back was locked, with only a narrow slit window covered in a mesh screen allowing some contact with the outside world.
I sat the man on one of the benches and held onto him, looked at Aria.
“We have to get that thing out of him,” my cousin-in-law stated quietly, “preferably before we reach the Citadel.”
I looked around at the cramped interior of the wagon, its distinct lack of surgical tools, jostled by the bumping of the wheels over the rough cobbles. “Is that …”
Aria cut me off. “He has something evil and magical inside him, something for who knows what purpose – but it can’t be good. It might be making him sick, or make others sick. For his sake we need to remove it – and besides, I don’t entirely trust those wizards … I think it would be wise to examine this thing before they do. Will you help me?
Looking into Aria’s mismatched eyes, seeing the set of her jaw, I realised I had little choice. I silently prayed to Abadar that we were doing the right thing.
Tain’s Journal
Field Surgery
Mid-afternoon, the 19th of Calistril
Ariadnae pulled a short, sharp knife from somewhere amongst the folds of her dress, and tested the blade against her thumb. The eyes of our prisoner went wide, focusing on the blade, and he began to struggle, panicked. I tried to hold him still, but between his struggles and the jostling of the wagon it was near impossible.
“This won’t do,” Aria murmured. She began chanting under her breath, one hand to the holy symbol of Pharasma that she wore at her throat. Abruptly, the naked man’s struggles ceased, he was frozen rigidly, unmoving, staring straight ahead, only the faintest rise and fall of his chest showing that he was still alive and breathing. “My spell will hold him for a short while, we must hurry,” the priestess advised. “Hold him Tain, in case it wears off or he breaks out of the enchantment. Unfortunately he will be alive and conscious through this … I hope he understands that this will be for his good …”
Although he could not move, I could see the fear and hate in his eyes as Aria moved close, held the knife against the scars on his belly. I did not know how she would be able to perform this delicate surgery under these conditions, but as it turns out, Aria is not only well versed in the surgical arts, but has the determination to succeed against strong odds. Somehow accommodating in her movements for the jostling of the wagon, she inserted the knife into one of the old scars and sliced across with her razor sharp knife, using enough force to slice easily through skin and muscle, without piercing the organs (or the foreign object) underneath. Blood and pus oozed from the deep cut. The pain and horror of the situation was evident in the man’s unblinking eyes – I spoke words of comfort and assurance, but I do not know if he heard or understood me. Aria changed her grip on the knife, then made a second cut, running perpendicular across the first. Done, she put the knife aside and peeled back the resulting triangles of skin and flesh to expose the dark cavity of the man’s gut.
A wave of black blood and yellow pus spewed forth from the wound, splashing Aria and myself, oozing down the man’s legs onto the floor. The stench that emanated from his gut was horrendous – like the rot of something long dead. I clenched my jaw – had it not been for our temple training and discipline I think that both Aria and I would have retched at the sight and smell, but we kept our collective composure. I looked again into the man’s eyes, but they were glazed, unfocused – mercifully, he had passed out. My gaze travelled down to that horrible gaping hole. There, within the cavity of his gut, nestled just above the tangle of his intestines, was a bloody membranous sac with a curiously regular shape to it.
While I held the man against the jostle of the carriage, Aria reached into the wound and carefully manoeuvred the object free. It was difficult to tell exactly what it was, covered in blood and membrane, but it was about the size of a human skull, and shaped something like a cylinder that bulged out in the middle.
“Hold this,” Aria said, passing the thing to me, “or put it down carefully over there.” She then turned back to the man’s wound, cleaned the pus from it as best she could, then folded the flaps back together and laid a hand at the convergence of the cut, calling on her Goddess for power. Her hand glowed for a moment, and the incisions began to knit themselves back together. She kept praying and healing until only a fresh pink scar remained.
With the man healed (and unconscious), the two of us turned our attention to the mess in the wagon. The floor and seats (and to some degree us) were covered in gore and waste, possibly disease bearing. After a quick consultation, Aria again called on her divinely granted magic to create water, washing us, the man and the walls and seats clean – but creating a pool several inches deep on the floor, with the waste now floating within and mingling with it. There was a lip at the door, and the floorboards were sealed with tar, but we did not want to risk this mess getting out. Again Aria prayed, this time to purify the water she had created. She reported to me later that she felt some sort of resistance, as though the stuff was tainted somehow with evil or magic, but after several minutes of praying, the water we stood in was clean and pure. I hoped that this was enough – I was safe from the threat of disease, but Aria was not.
We now began to examine the object. As we looked at it, we both heard an odd sound – a sort of ‘tick’ noise, followed by a sloshing sound, as if the object contained some sort of liquid. Carefully, Aria used her knife to cut away the membrane from around the thing – underneath, the object was indeed of a shape and size as I described above, and made from some dull, reddish metal. There were no seams or markings evident on it. We were mystified as to what it might be.
~Tick~ ~Slosh~
…
…
…
~Tick~ ~Slosh~
“Perhaps it contains some sort of water clock,” I theorised. “Except … are the noises coming slightly closer together?”
Aria looked at me, concern etched on her face. “It’s a timer … it’s counting down … to something. Like … an alchemist’s bomb …”
Just about then, the wagon stopped. For a moment we heard only faint, distant noises from outside and the increasingly unnerving noises from the object.
~Tick~ ~Slosh~
…
…
~Tick~ ~Slosh~
Then came the sound of hard footsteps on cobblestones outside the door to the wagon. Aria moved over to the door and banged on it. “Let us out,” she called.
There was no response for a moment, then a man’s voice. “I’m waiting for the Acadamae wizards,” he said.
~Tick~ ~Slosh~
…
~Tick~ ~Slosh~
“By the authority of the Bank of Abadar, open that door right now!” I boomed. Either my words or my tone must have done the trick, for a moment later we heard the bolt being drawn and then bright sunlight streamed into the back of the wagon as the door was opened.
~Tick~ ~Slosh~
~Tick~ ~Slosh~
I picked up the naked man bodily and jumped out into the courtyard of Citadel Volshyenek, a moment behind Aria, then turned to slam the heavy door shut with my free hand. Looking about I saw a number of Guardsmen in the immediate vicinity, and the two aproned and masked mages hurrying towards us.
~Tick~ ~Slosh~ ~Tick~ ~Slosh~
“Get back!” I yelled, as Aria and I, dragging the man between us, began to run away from the wagon, towards the mages. “Get away from the wagon!”
~Tick~Slosh~Tick~Slosh~Tick~Slosh~
…
…
…
~BOOM~
With an ear splitting bang, the wagon exploded in an orange ball of fire.
Tain’s Journal
Explosion!
Afternoon, the 19th of Calistril
Main courtyard of Citadel Volshyenek
I could feel the heat at my back as the wall of orange flame rushed towards Aria, the naked man, the two Acadamae mages and myself. The wizards stared wide-eyed above their half masks, then almost simultaneously flung out their hands.
I wish I had learnt the identity of those two. It is true that I have no love for the Acadamae, but those two wizards probably saved Aria’s and my life - or at least prevented as from taking serious injury. The wizards had both reacted quickly, conjuring up hemispherical shields of magical force that protected us from the heat and force of the blast, the flames rushing past us on all sides.
Others were not so fortunate. There had been upward of two dozen people in the courtyard; soldiers on guard or taking their leisure, administration staff for the Guard returning from their lunch breaks, people visiting the Citadel for one purpose or another. As the flames of the explosion died away, we saw that few of these people had survived unscathed, if at all.
The explosion had completely demolished the wagon, and turned the horses, driver and guards standing nearby into charred wrecks, barely recognisable as corpses. All about other bodies lay on the scorched cobbles, some clearly dead, others merely badly burnt, or injured by flying shrapnel. Here and there, timber structures within the courtyard smouldered or blazed.
Aria and I immediately set to work tending to the wounded, doing what we could to heal or comfort, or if needs be, speak prayers for the dead. The two Acadamae wizards meanwhile, spoke urgently into a crystal ball one of them had pulled out from amongst his robes. A few minutes later there were several audible pops of displaced air, as five more wizards teleported into the courtyard. Glancing about, I saw Mari riding over towards us, looking around in horror at the scene, whilst keeping her distance from the other wizards. For their part, the Acadamae members paid her no attention; arraying themselves around the courtyard, they began chanting in unison, and in seconds a shimmering, transparent barrier sprang into being around the perimeter of the courtyard - trapping us all inside, and Marcus and Agon - who had traveled on foot in Mari’s wake - outside.
Mari raced over to the courtyard entrance where Marcus and Agon stood forlornly on the other side of the magical barrier. I approached one of the Acadamae mages who seemed to be inside, to enquire what was happening; he was brusque with me, and did not give me a full explanation, except to say that they were trying to prevent the spread of possible contamination. He did not ask what happened in the wagon, nor about the naked man. In the confusion and chaos of the explosion, it appeared that everyone had forgotten about him, or at least the original two wizards had not yet given their superior a complete report.
I made sure our recent patient was safe (he was lying, passed out in a corner, wrapped up in my cloak), the returned to assisting Aria with the injured. Shortly Mari joined us, reporting that she had managed to communicate to Marcus through the magical barrier the name of the ship that the naked man had come from - he had gone off to the docks to investigate. Agon was still outside, taking charge of the Guards who had arrived on the scene, to provide what help he could from the other side of the barrier.
An hour or so passed. We had done all that we could for the wounded, and paid our respects to the dead. The wizards had been casting various spells (including over us and the other survivors), apparently trying to detect some sign of contamination. We were pronounced ‘clear’, although we were still not certain exactly what that meant.
Suddenly there came a distant boom from somewhere to the north. Instinctively we turned to look in that direction, but initially could see nothing over the high walls of the citadel courtyard, but a few moments later we saw a plume of dark smoke rising up into the sky. “Another explosion?” asked Aria. None of us could answer that question for certain, but it seemed likely - apparently our naked man was not the only person let loose in the city with an alchemical bomb inside them.
The Acadamae wizards were speaking urgently into their crystal balls again, and, a moment later, began teleporting away one by one, apparently to deal with the latest threat, leaving only one mage behind to begin lowering the magical barriers. As soon as the barrier was down, Guardsmen began pouring into the courtyard from both the street and the Citadel proper.
“I’d like to question this man - ourselves,” said Aria quietly, gesturing to the naked man. Mari and I were in agreement, and carrying the half conscious man between us, we left the courtyard, unnoticed in the confusion.
Tain’s Journal
What the naked man knew but could not tell
Late afternoon, the 19th of Calistril
Osric’s warehouse
Osric did not seem pleased to see us, when Aria, Mari and I knocked on the door of his warehouse, wanting to question someone there, but Mari sweet-talked him into letting us in and giving us access to a disused store room. He even (with some grumbling) provided us with a strong cup of Katapeshi coffee to waken our dazed guest, and some old clothes to cover his nakedness more thoroughly than my cloak had done.
Aria had suggested we question the man here, being somewhat paranoid about who might be behind this all. I had assured her that my church was not corrupt, a statement she accepted, but still wondered out loud who else might be listening at the Bank of Abadar. In the end I had agreed to question the man here, as it was on the way to the Bank where I intended to place him in custody.
As the man regained full consciousness, we could see the fear and confusion in his eyes as he looked at us – but the madness I had seen earlier appeared to be gone. We offered him clothing and coffee, and spoke calm and comforting words, although not entirely sure how much he could understand.
“I do understand you,” he spoke up in heavily accented Common, having heard us talking amongst ourselves with his back turned as he dressed. “I speak some Taldane. Where am I? What happened to me?” As he spoke his hand traced the old and new scars on his still bare abdomen (he still held the shirt we had provided in his hand) and looked confused. Apparently he did not remember his run through the city streets, or (thankfully) his ride in the wagon with us.
“You are in Korvosa, in a safe place,” I replied. “My name is Tain and these are my friends. We are trying to find out exactly what happened to you – we are trying to help you. What is your name?”
“I am called Rella,” he said. “I’m a sailor, I was on the Perraxian Eagle … we were bound for Korvosa … something …” he trailed off.
“Who did this to you Rella?” asked Aria, pointing to the scars on his stomach.
Rella seemed about to answer, when suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head until only the whites showed, and he began shaking violently, frothing at the mouth. I grabbed hold of him, and Aria tried to hold his mouth open so that he would not bite off his tongue.
“He must be under some kind of compulsion not to speak,” Mari explained. “Try to hold him still, I want to try something.” Not bothering to hide what she was doing, she began to murmur the words of a spell, then put her hand to Rella’s perspiring forehead. After a moment she shook her head, disappointed. “Nothing,” she said. “I tried to read his thoughts, but there is quite literally nothing there. An absence of thought.”
Aria and I tried to soothe Rella, and soon enough his seizure ended, his face relaxed and he returned to normal. Once assured that he was alright, we began asking him more questions. Some he responded to, answering seemingly truthfully, others he could not answer, once again going into a fit from which it took several minutes to calm him.
Aria asked where his ship was from. The ship had sailed from Katheer in Qadira, he said, and stopped at a number of ports within and without the Inner Sea before arriving in Korvosa. Did you stop in Absolom, Aria wanted to know? Yes, it was the first stop from Katheer. What about Magnimar? No, Rella said, they did not go to Magnimar. I asked whether they had called at any ports in Cheliax and was told yes, the ship stopped at half a dozen Chelaxian ports including Westcrown, the former capital.
“We saw the tattoo you wear, what does it mean?” Aria asked. Rella replied that it was a devotion, he was a worshipper of Calistria. So perhaps there was nothing sinister about the marking.
“What is the last thing you clearly remember?” I asked. Rella looked frightened again. “It was last night,” he answered quietly. “We had just gained the harbour in Korvosa and then … then we all went crazy. That is all.”
“Was anyone on board the ship ill before that?” I asked, a question that elicited no answer, only another seizure.
Aria asked if anyone boarded the ship in Absolom, any passengers or new crew members. Yes, was the answer, someone did, but when asked who, another fit. When at last it had passed, Mari asked, “Did the person who boarded in Absolom ever leave the ship?” He disappeared, Rella answered hesitantly, last night.
Mari then pulled out a coin bearing the skull and cleaver symbol of the Harbingers, and showed it to Rella asking if he recognized it. Apparently he did, for his reply was to have another fit.
We could think of little else to ask him at this point, especially seeing as he was unable to answer the most important questions. We took our leave of Osric and, once Rella was recovered, escorted him through the city towards the Bank of Abadar.
Tain’s Journal
Marcus and Agon tell their tales
Early twilight, the 19th of Calistril
We delivered Rella into the custody of the Bank of Abadar, making it clear to all parties that he was to be protected as a potential witness to a crime, rather than to be shackled as a prisoner.
On our way back out of the Bank, I saw Ardele Lianti hurrying towards us (or rather past us) up the main stair. “Abadar’s blessings upon you Cleric Ardele,” I hailed her. “What news from the city?”
“Greetings Paladin Tain,” she returned my call, halting to catch her breath and wipe the perspiration from her brow. “The news is not good – I go now to brief the Archbanker. Explosions at Citadel Volshyenek, and at the Midland Docks. And one of our lesser banks has been robbed.”
“Robbed?” I asked sharply. “Which bank?” At the same time, Mari put her hand to her mouth, looking stricken. “The docks?” she cried. “Oh no! Marcus!”
Ardele looked between Mari and I. “The bank branch is at the south side of Midland,” she said, addressing me. I nodded, I knew the place - only a block or two from the Dancing Cyclops in fact. Ardele the turned to Mari. “Lady, did you refer to Marcus Merivanchi by chance?” I’m not sure whether the cleric recognised Mari, but she would have known my relationship to the Merivanchi family, and that I had recently been working with Marcus. Mari nodded, and Ardele continued. “I saw him not fifteen minutes past, at the bank, in the company of a Korvosan Guard lieutenant.” With that, she gave us a nod and hurried into the building.
I led the way through the streets to the small bank branch in Midland. There was an air of fear and confusion in the streets; most people did not know all the details, except that there had been some sort of fire and explosion at the docks and at the Citadel. Some people feared an attack by Magnimar, or the Shoanti, or Cheliax. Others wondered if it was the work of the Thieves Guild, or Blackjack, or anarchists. Smoke still rose from the direction of the docks, although it had cleared over the Citadel.
A scene of confusion greeted us at the bank, with Abadarian guards and bankers interviewing the branch staff and security and investigating the area, and Korvosan Guardsmen keeping onlookers away and getting in the way of the Abadarians as they tried to undertake their own investigation. We spotted Agon and Marcus standing outside, the former writing notes onto a wax tablet.
Mari ran up and hugged Marcus - he looked rather surprised, but after a moment returned the enthusiastic greeting. Then we began to exchange notes on our doings of the last couple of hours.
When he could not get into the courtyard of Citadel Volshyenek, Marcus had followed Mari’s suggestion and made his way to the docks (leaving Agon to organise the Guards who were arriving outside the Citadel) to find out what he could of the Perraxian Eagle. He’d found the dockmaster and learnt that the Eagle had arrived in the harbour last night, but was sailing erratically and not displaying the proper lights or flags. Sable Company marines who intercepted the ship reported that the entire crew appeared to be drunk or drugged, behaving very strangely, and that they could get no sense out of any on board. The ship was guided into port, but placed under quarantine. There had been no change in the state of the crew until midday, when several of them began to grow agitated and manic, and one managed to leap onto the dock and escape on foot into the city. This was of course Rella.
As Marcus was talking to the dockmaster, the Perraxian Eagle - which he could see in the background - suddenly and without warning exploded in a tremendous ball of fire, sending flaming debris flying throughout the area. The chaos was immense and immediate, although soon enough the Sable Company, Abadarian guards on the docks and Acadamae mages who teleported in began to get things under a semblance of control, organising bucket brigades and using magic to quench the flames. Several nearby ships and buildings at the docks were damaged by fire, and it was only due to the quick reaction of everyone there that the fire did not spread through the city. As it was, only one other ship, a Chelish merchant vessel called the Direption was sunk, and most of its cargo was recovered before it went down, although before Marcus left the docks he heard that several boxes had apparently gone missing - perhaps stolen - in the confusion.
The Eagle itself was completely destroyed, and Marcus did not think any aboard could possibly have survived. Several Sable Company marines and nearby dock workers and sailors were also killed in the explosion.
For his part, Marcus had done what he could to keep things under control and organise people until the proper authorities had arrived on the scene. Once things seemed to be getting under control, he began to make his way back to the Citadel to find us, but had passed the bank here and noticed the commotion, with Agon interviewing people on the street.
Agon’s story was longer, and started somewhat earlier in the day. When he and Marcus noticed the rest of us gone, back at the Dancing Cyclops early in the afternoon, Marcus had immediately tried to follow us on foot. Agon had a different idea, one possibly borne of him being slightly tipsy and not thinking his best he admitted a little sheepishly. Rather than run off through the streets, he had decided to climb up onto the rooftops to see if he could spot us.
Gaining the heights, he had not seen us … but he did see Blackjack, standing atop a nearby roof. Or rather, someone dressed as Blackjack - the man’s rather podgy physique did not resemble the classic image of the vigilante, nor the ‘Blackjack’ we had seen at the Queen’s coronation. The man appeared to be closely watching a building across the road from where he stood - a branch of the Bank of Abadar.
As Agon had watched the man, he heard a noise behind him. He spun, trying to draw his sword, but before he could another black clad figure had bashed him across the side of the head with a cosh, and he had fallen into unconsciousness. “Yes,” Agon said with an ironic smile. “I was hit with a blackjack by Blackjack.”
Agon wasn’t sure how long he was out, but when he awoke (unharmed apart from a sore head), he realised that the ‘Blackjacks’ had been casing the bank, no doubt with ill intent. He briefly considered going into the bank to warn someone, but realised that in his dishevelled state, and smelling of alcohol, he may not be believed. It was not far to Citadel Volshyenek, so he resolved to go there for backup.
He had almost reached the main gates to the Citadel (having met Marcus along the way and been filled in on the situation with the naked man), when the explosion happened. Agon soon found that he was the most senior Guardsman on this side of the barrier (in the vicinity at least) and began organising people, assisting as best he could (the explosion had injured even some people outside the gates, and started a few small fires). Once things were under control, and Marcus had departed for the docks, Agon suddenly remembered about the bank. Gathering a cadre of Guards, he made haste for the bank.
They arrived some five minutes after the thieves had departed. There was little chance of catching them, so Agon set about investigating the scene and questioning the witnesses. There had been at least two thieves, each of them dressed all in black, wearing masks, in the manner of Blackjack. One of them was distinctly portly in build. They had apparently made extensive use of magic in their operation; guards were sent into magical sleep, or overcome by sudden, irrational fear. The staff believed that magic must have been used to get into the vault too. The thieves absconded with somewhere between three and four thousand gold pieces worth of coins and gold bars.
Some of the witnesses claimed they saw a third thief. He stayed invisible through most of the robbery, but apparently cast most of the spells. Only towards the end of the ordeal did he let his spell of invisibility drop briefly, and a few witnesses caught a glimpse of his face (he was not wearing a mask). He was tall, with a haughty looking, lined face, a hooked nose and a bald pate. In short, he looked very much like Peryarv Lagren of Magnimar.
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"I was hit with a blackjack by Blackjack.”
That one actually made me laugh out loud. :)
Once again, wow, what a great job from the DM. The second adventure is being introduced in a very epic and original way...
I like the way he makes the Acadamae mages very active, with their teleportation spells and crystal ball. That is really cool.
Very nicely written, as usual!
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Yeah, the Acadamae seems really well organised, even militant in their approach. Tain’s a bit torn; he doesn’t like the Acadamae, he sees them as too reminiscent of Imperial Cheliax under house Thrune, and suspects that many of them are Asdmodeans and /or devil worshippers. He believes that their constant summoning of imps places the city in peril.
However, he cannot ignore the fact that they seem to be expending a lot of resources to protect the city in these dark times.
Yep, our GM sure puts some work into this game and keeps us on our toes. I’m the player who’s probably most familiar with the adventures as written, and I’ve got no idea what is going on most of the time!
Tain’s Journal
A conversation with Blackjack
Twilight, the 19th of Calistril
Soon we left the bank, heading towards Brock House. Aria looked up at the darkening sky.
“Don’t look,” she murmured, “but up on that roof over there … a man dressed all in black stands there, looking down at the bank.”
Carefully, subtly, we all glanced about, marking the man and the building he stood atop. “I know this area,” I said quietly. “There’s an external stair up to the roof of that block, in the rear alley. I’m going to get up there.”
Agon nodded tightly. “I’ll try to find another way up,” he said, “cut him off. The rest of you keep walking.”
Marcus and Agon agreed, though Mari, still riding her horse, looked as if she wanted to go chasing across rooftops her self.
I took the next turning and walked down the alley, found the rickety stair I remembered, and began moving quickly but quietly upwards, two steps at a time.
As my head cleared the edge of the roof, I saw a pair of polished black boots standing on the slate tiles a bit higher up the roof. Looking up, I saw above the boots a tall, slim man, wearing all black clothing, complete with cloak, half mask and wide brimmed hat. He wore a rapier at one hip and a dagger at the other. His features were concealed by his mask and shadows, but I could tell he was looking at me.
He took a step back, but did not try to attack me or flee. “I’ve been waiting for you, Champion of Abadar,” he said in a softly spoken but firm voice. “Please, finish your climb.”
Warily, I hoisted myself up onto the roof, watching him. He stood easily, having no apparent trouble balancing on the sloping roof. “Why were you waiting for me?” I asked once I stood at the edge of the roof, a few yards away from him. I was well aware that he could have fled - or attacked me - at any time whilst I was making my way up to the roof.
“I wanted to tell you - I had nothing to do with that bank robbery today,” he said, gesturing down to the street. “Nor did I have anything to do with the attempted assassination of the Queen.”
I looked closely at the man in black. “I’m inclined to believe you,” I answered after a moment. “Tell me, did you have anything to do with Trinia Sabore’s escape from Citadel Volshyenek?”
The man nodded curtly. “Yes, that was me I admit. Before you ask, I firmly believe that the girl is innocent, and that she would have received no fair trial.”
I looked at him again, hearing conviction in his words. “Are you then the true Blackjack?” I asked, inching slowly towards him across the roof.
I saw the flash of a grin beneath his mask. “I like to think so, yes,” he replied.
I sighed heavily. “I believe what you say, and you seem to be an honourable man. But I am afraid I must place you under arrest – my order has placed a high priority on your capture.”
He nodded again. “I know. I just wanted to say my piece first. I – what in the world can that be?”
He stared wide-eyed over my shoulder. Even as my head began to involuntarily turn, I knew it as a trick – one of the oldest. My gaze only left him for the briefest of seconds, but that was all he needed. The instant my attention wavered, Blackjack was off, running away from me across the Shingles.
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The instant my attention wavered, Blackjack was off, running away from me across the Shingles.Poor Tain, I guess Blackjack will have a good laugh at his expense that he fell for something so basic. ;)
Yeah, from memory (I’m actually a few sessions behind in my write-up) the GM asked for a Sense Motive roll or maybe a Will save. Either way, something Tain is good at, but I rolled poorly …
Tain’s Journal
The Chase
Twilight, the 19th of Calistril
The Shingles
Blackjack was not much faster than I, but he had a head start, surer footing, and the advantage of knowing the Shingles better than I. Nevertheless, I ran as fast as I could after him, somewhat recklessly. It was only by the grace of Abadar that I did not slip and fall, between the treacherous footing and fading light. We ran across the ridgeline of the one roof, with me following as he dropped down onto an adjacent flat roof, sprinting across that too.
Here I saw a chance to make up some ground, and put on a burst of speed – but suddenly a trap door opened up just ahead of me, and I had to swerve hastily aside to avoid tumbling down.
I whirled to face the figure emerging from the trapdoor, half expecting that some ally of Blackjack was trying to ambush me – but it was Agon! Apparently he had found another way up after all – only a few seconds too late.
“This way!” I called, already starting to sprint away again, Agon close behind me. We scrambled up a low rise to a higher roof and ran along it. Up ahead was a gap – an alleyway some fifteen feet wide, and Blackjack was running straight towards it.
I heard something on the street below. Glancing down to my left I spied Mari galloping hard atop her brown gelding, overtaking us and stopping at the mouth of the alley ahead. Looking up, she raised her hand as Blackjack leapt easily across the gap, clearly casting some type of spell, but whatever it was there was no apparent effect.
On my other side, Agon had slowed, loosing the light mace from his belt. As Blackjack landed lightly on the far roof, he threw the weapon hard at our quarry. Blackjack seemed to sense it coming, and half turned, dodging neatly aside as the weapon spun past him, clattering onto the roof tiles ahead.
For my part, I did not slow, but ran as hard as I could, leaping the gap. For a heartstopping moment I thought I would not make it, but again Abadar was with me, and my toes found purchase on the far roof. Windmilling my arms and leaning forward I managed to keep my balance and kept running. Just behind me, Agon attempted and made the same jump, a little more easily than I, making up the short distance between us to run at my side.
We kept chasing the escaping vigilante from roof to roof, with Mari keeping pace with us on her horse on the streets below. Blackjack was slowly drawing away from us, but not so much that a mistake on his part would not allow us to catch him,
The chase led us towards a wide boulevard, busy with traffic, both pedestrian and carts and wagons, as folk headed home for the evening. Blackjack was running out of options – there appeared no way that he could make the leap of more than thirty feet to the other side of the street, and he would surely need to stop and climb rather than risk the thirty foot drop to the cobbles of the street below. This would be our opportunity.
Blackjack slowed slightly as he began to near the street, pulling a looped coil of thin rope from his belt – a rope with a light grapple at its end. Without missing his step he whirled the rope and tossed the grapple upwards, to catch on a gargoyle adorning a tall spire that loomed above us. Still running, he leapt out over the street, firmly holding the rope in his gloved hands, then swung about and down in mid air, landing safely in the street!
Agon and I glanced at each other in shock, but kept running – perhaps we could find some swift way down.
I kept my eye on Blackjack. He had hardly missed a step in his landing, and now ran down the street, towards where two large wagons, one carrying lumber the other piled high with crates, rumbled towards each other over the cobblestones.
Agon meanwhile had his eye out for some way down. “There!” he pointed in excitement as we jogged along the side of the roof. Almost below us was a cart piled high with hay, moving slowly down the street. We looked at each other, nodded, then both ran towards the edge of the roof and leaped down into empty air.
The gamble paid off. We both landed, unhurt, in the hay at the back of the surprised farmer’s cart. Quickly scrambling out, we looked about the crowded street for Blackjack. And spied him just disappearing between the two large wagons as they passed each other, several dozen yards further down the street.
By the time we reached the area, the wagons had passed – and there was no sign of Blackjack. Had he climbed aboard one of them, or ducked down an alley, or into a nearby doorway? Agon and I chose a wagon each, and ordered the drivers to halt, whilst we searched … but there was no sign of him. Blackjack had escaped.
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Actually, I'm Blackjack.
Stands up: No I am Blackjack :-)
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Yeah, there was a little more to the session that I didn’t get around to writing up yet; Mari spotted Blackjack duck into a nearby warehouse, one bearing the coat of arms of House Arkona above the doors. Mari alerted Agon and Tain, then snuck in invisibly to scout about. Agon went in openly and Tain stayed outside to watch for anyone trying to escape.
Inside, there was no sign of Blackjack, but Agon suspected something dodgy going on at the warehouse and used his authority (later backed up by Tain) to suspend the operation pending a full Guard investigation.
Meanwhile, Marcus had been following at a distance, and reaches the street while the others are inside the warehouse. Unbeknownst (at this stage) to any of the others, who should Marcus see walking out of an adjacent warehouse but Vencarlo Orisini. The pair briefly exchange pleasantries before Vencarlo climbs into a waiting coach bearing the coat of arms of House Bannyer and rides off.
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Written by Kraken and Ollie:
21 Calistril
21 Grace Street, The Heights
Marcus waited in the shade of the portico for the Baroness' carriage to arrive. Today he was sporting some of his newest finery, white lace-cuffed shirt, fine velvet breeches coloured bright scarlet with the best Osiriani dyes offset with white stockings, a fine new pair of boots and a coat of scarlet silk and brocade completed the outfit. His customary rapier was absent today, although he still wore the stylish swept-hilt fencing dagger, in its place he carried a fancy walking stick of black hardwood and silver.
As the carriage arrived, Marcus stepped into the street to meet his guest. He bowed deeply, and then accepted and kissed the Baroness' hand. She was similarly attired in stately finery, a dress of deep blue Andoran cotton with a tightly fitting bodice, and elegant silver jewellery. For a lady in her late thirties, she still cut a fine figure and Marcus couldn't help but admire her.
"My dear Baroness, I am honoured that you chose to accept my luncheon invitation. I have a table booked for us at the Crested Falcon, but if you would indulge me for a few moments before we depart I have a few matters to attend to here, please follow me".
Marcus turned and led the Lady Delamore through the pillared portico into the villa.
Inside, the villa was tastefully decorated in modern Korvosan furnishings, although here and there a number of more exotic touches from far Qatar could be seen.
"I hope you enjoyed your dinner with my wife the other evening. She spoke highly of both of you, as she always does. She greatly enjoys your conversation and company I must say."
Marcus led the Baroness into the sitting room and made a show of packing up some papers in a leather satchel and preparing to depart. He left her for a few moments to admire the room.
"Cristiana tells me the two of you were discussin Qatari art works the other evening. Tell me, what do you think of the decorations here? The owner has done well with matching the different cultural motifs I believe".
"Tell me Marcus, you have business here you say. Where is the master of the house?" The Baroness enquired, her voice rich with a strong Galtian accent.
Side stepping the question, Marcus once again enquired as to the Baroness' opinion on the villa, before answering her "I have just been concluding some paperwork with the master's agent".
Making small talk, Marcus continued to lead the Baroness through the villa, before heading up stairs towards the bed chambers.
***
The house was obviously uninhabited, although it was immaculately cleaned, no clothing or personal effects could be seen in the master bedroom, the stately bed sat undisturbed. Marcus could see the Baroness was taking everything in, trying to decide exactly why he had bought her to this place.
Pulling aside the drapes, Marcus led the Baroness out onto the small balcony to take in the view of the city laid out below them to the south and east. “I’m sure it is nothing compared to many of the sights you have seen in your travels, but a pleasant enough view I’m sure you would agree?” In the distance, beyond the city walls, could be seen the bright blue curve of the Jeggare River winding its way inland through patchwork farmland and orchards.
Marcus stared at the Baroness for a moment, trying to read her feelings. She looked down across the city before turning back to take in the façade of the villa. After a few more moments Marcus turned to her again.
“I believe we should head off as our table will be waiting”.
Marcus led the Baroness downstairs. Picking up his tricorn hat and stepping outside he suggested, “Its is only a short walk to the Falcon, shall we walk and take in some of this sunshine?” He offered the Baroness his arm, which she graciously accepted and the two headed down the tree-lined street.
As the two walked, Marcus spoke again about his wife, the Baroness, her daughter and their recent dinner and luncheons. He dropped Tain’s name into the conversation here and there to gauge her reactions.
A few minutes later, Marcus and Lellia sat at their table in the Crested Falcon, Korvosa most over priced restaurant, sipping sweet white wine.
“Now I must confess, my lady. I did indeed ask you to meet me at the villa for ulterior motives, as I am sure you have already guessed. Before I continue though, I must ask again your opinion of the building. Do you think it would suit the needs of yourself and young Lavinia?”
***
The Baroness tilts her head a small amount to one side as she stares at Marcus. Her sight is unwavering and unblinking, an uneasy silence developing. Marcus keeps eye contact until at last she glances down at her wine. The Baroness sets her goblet down, one hand idly stroking the stem of the vessel.
She looks back into Marcus' eyes and spoke in a sultry voice. "I think we can come to some sort of arrangement." A hint of a smile tugged at her lips.
***
Marcus looks away again, studying the contents of his wine glass. What in the name of the gods am I doing? he thinks. I came here to do business with Lady Delamore, and instead I find myself flirting with her.
Marcus raised his gaze once again and looked across the table at the older woman. Once again she locks him with her eyes.
"I am . ." Marcus voice locked for a moment as he found himself unable to focus. She is definately toying with me, and she has me acting like a naive youth. Marcus takes a mouthful of wine, allowing himself a few moments to regain control.
"I am glad you feel that way Lellia" Marcus began again. "I recalled from our first meeting your intention to find a suitable dwelling in Korvosa. And, the moment the villa came to my attention you immediately sprang to mind.
"Of course, it is probably not up to the standard you have previously been accustomed to, but I hope it may prove suitable until you are able to better establish yourself in our fair city."
Two can play at this game Marcus thought. Leaning across the table he placed his hand gently on Lellia’s and held her gaze for a moment. “If you do indeed find the property to your liking it can be yours”.
He let his hand linger for a moment before drawing back and regarding the Baroness. Damn, she is hard to read. Once again, that sly smile played across her lips. Marcus was now sure she was trying to put him off his game, yet maybe . . .
“You are playing games with me Marcus. I know the property is yours to sell, it came to your recently in a business deal, did it not?”
“Indeed you are right. I recently acquired the villa as part of a business settlement. However, I did speak the truth earlier. I did think immediately of you Lellia when I first saw the property. We can’t have you living in an inn forever now can we?
“If you will permit me to be so bold as talk business, perhaps a price of 40 thousand would be acceptable”. Marcus knew it was within her means. He also knew he could get more for the property if he wished.
***
The Baroness gives a gentle laugh, and puts her hand over Marcus'.
"Oh you do start hard, don't you?
"My eye - though unattuned to the local market as it is - suggests 30,000. Thoughts?"
"I have been told that…”
"My grasp of the local market is fair, and trust me my lady when I say 37,500 is far closer to the mark. And may I also remind you of the proximity the house has to the haunts of many young nobles and would serve your connection to the city well."
The baroness laughs again, the mirth reaching her eyes. "Oh I do love a good negotiation. So many people fold too early. How about this? 36,000 and we'll shake hands on the deal here and now."
"Very well my lady, I must yield to your wishes. I will accept your offer, for as I have said, I have no desire to see or your daughter homeless any longer.
"I can arrange to have my agent begin drawing up papers this evening. Shall we toast to your new home?" Marcus raised his glass to the Baroness. “My wife will be trilled to have you in the neighbourhod, and who knows, she may ask my friend Mr Locus to accompany her on a visit or two in the future."
Shortly afterwards, the pair's meal arrived and Marcus steered the conversation to other areas.
"So Lellia, I understand you have some interest in viticulture. I'm not sure if you are aware, but my family holds a large vineyard north of the city and I too have a keen interest in the field. So, tell me about wine making back in Galt …”
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Unbeknownst (at this stage) to any of the others, who should Marcus see walking out of an adjacent warehouse but Vencarlo Orisini. The pair briefly exchange pleasantries before Vencarlo climbs into a waiting coach bearing the coat of arms of House Bannyer and rides off.
Just to clarify: Vencarlo came walking out of a House Bannyer warehouse, and behind him a coach left the premises.
Vencarlo simply walked off down the street after a quick talk with Marcus.
Tain’s Journal
Follow up and investigation
The 21st of Calistril
We have made no further progress in tracking down Blackjack after our rooftop chase of the other night, but perhaps the chase was not a complete waste of time. Although Agon and I lost sight of our quarry when he ran between the wagons, Mari had spotted him slipping into a nearby warehouse building, one marked with House Arkona’s coat of arms. Our subsequent thorough search of the building revealed no signs of Blackjack, but we did find some things that led Agon to suspect that the warehouse was being used to front a smuggling operation. He has made a petition to his superiors to be put in charge of a follow up investigation on the matter.
I cannot help but wonder if Blackjack deliberately led us to the place. When I later mentioned this thought to Marcus (who had arrived at the warehouse about ten minutes after we did), he replied something along the lines of, “Yes, that seems like his style.” Something about his tone of voice when he said this suggested to me that he might suspect the identity of Blackjack, but when I pressed him on the matter, he demurred, saying that he was referring to Blackjack’s historical style.
With no further solid leads to Blackjack, Aria and I have felt that it is more important to find out about Peryarv, and have spent some time over the past two days looking into his recent activities and even following him discreetly as went about his business. We have learnt some interesting things.
Peryarv has been in Korvosa for over a year, on an extended ‘mutual business opportunity’ diplomatic mission from Magnimar. During this time he has been involved in discussions with some of the city’s religious leaders, including the heads of both Aria and my churches. As far as we have been able to learn, nothing sinister has been discussed in these meetings, we have though managed to learn of Peryarv’s religious leader. Apparently he primarily worships Nethys (which fits, now that we have discovered he is a wizard), but also follows the teachings of Alseta, Sivanah and even the elven deity Yuelral.
Peryarv has been busy over the past two days, visiting a number of private residences and institutions. He has visited all the major churches, and has been buying up scrolls of the ‘remove disease’ spell, particularly from the church of Sarenrae, spending in the vicinity of 3000 gold sails over the past two days on these items. This seems somewhat sinister, given the threat of disease from the area the Hellknights are guarding (what some have began to refer to as The Zone). Coincidently, or not, the amount spent corresponds closely to the sum stolen from the Bank on the 19th.
Yesterday morning, Peryarv briefly visited House Arkona – we have been unable to discover who he met with or what was discussed. Since then, apart from visiting the temples, he has visited eight other people in town, people that his role as ambassador would not normally bring him into contact with, but whom we can find no real pattern to or connection between. These people are from various walks of life and social stations, and most are unknown to us, with one notable exception; one of the people visited was Arius the Wise, a professor at the University and a favourite teacher of Mari.
Aria has set up a meeting with Marcus and Mari at Brock House in the morning, to discuss with the others what we have learnt, and to see if Mari is able to approach her tutor to find out what was discussed between he and Peryarv.
There is another thing that I wish to follow up on; yesterday’s edition of the Korvosan Times, in their coverage of the explosions, mentioned that several items from the Direption’s cargo manifesto went missing during the chaos. I have wondered if it is entirely coincidental that this ship was damaged and sunk by the explosion of the Perraxian Eagle. I may be paranoid, but I do wonder if there is some significance to those missing cargo items.
Tain’s Journal
A Just Reward
Early morning, the 22nd of Calistril
The Bank of Abadar
I had been on patrol of the city streets with a squad of my compatriots from the Bank from the small hours of the morning until some two hours after dawn. The patrol was largely uneventful. Upon my return to the Bank, a junior acolyte was waiting for me with a message that I was to attend the Archbanker in his office at my earliest convenience.
It was a favourable meeting. The Archbanker had seen reports of some of my doings over the past several weeks, and, after the customary greetings and blessings were exchanged, commended me on my conduct and service beyond the call of duty, especially in relation to the otyugh incident, my secondment to the Korvosan Guard, the arrest of Trinia Sabore, and my quick action in saving the Queen from the assassination attempt. The Archbanker added that he would be keeping an eye on my progress, and expected that I would advance rapidly within the church.
I accepted the accolades with thanks, justifiably proud of my actions, although I also felt a twinge of guilt; some of my activities, conducted on my own time, had been vague in their details in my official reports to my superiors, in particular the attack on Lamm’s operation and the rescue of Yasmin Marcella. While I was confident that I had acted in the cause of good on these occasions, I had not worked within the framework of my city or my orders laws. True, legal recourse had failed in the case of Lamm in particular, mainly due to corruption within the Guard and the courts, but I wondered privately how my actions would be viewed if the full extent of them were known. On the other hand, the vagueness of detail in my reports had never been questioned.
The Archbanker had seen fit to reward me for my efforts in protecting the city. Noting with some amusement that neither my old, Guard issue scale armour nor the second hand breastplate I was currently wearing really befit the image of a paladin of Abadar, Archbanker Tuttle called for an acolyte, who came into the office carrying a suit of chainmail, which he handed to me with a bow.
I held up the chain hauberk admiringly. The armour was of quality craftsmanship, light but strong, and appeared to be tailored just to my size. The links were of highly polished steel that shone like silver, and the armour featured gold coloured shoulder guards and an integral holy symbol of Abadar on the chest.
“The armour is enchanted too,” said the Archbanker. “Wear it with pride Paladin Tain – may it serve you well as you serve Korvosa.”
“Indeed I will Archbanker,” I answered, bowing.
After giving further thanks, I took my leave, and, after freshening up and donning my new armour, left for my appointment at Brock House.
Tain’s Journal
Early morning, the 22nd of Calistril
Brock House
Upon my arrival at Brock House I was informed by Gavick that Marcus had left some hour earlier on business, but that Aria was visiting with Mari.
Making my way into the sitting room, I was momentarily startled, thinking for a brief instant that it was Talia who sat talking to Aria. It was of course Mari, but she had apparently dyed her long hair black, and wore it loose as Talia often had, rather than in the tightly coiled and elaborate styles that Mari had previously favoured. I hesitated at the door … there was something somehow unsettling about the change, other than the resemblance it granted Mari to my dead wife, and I wondered if it somehow signified more than just a change in personal style. Was it my imagination, or did Mari also appear even more pale in complexion than was usual for her?
Aria and Mari were deep in discussion, and had not noticed my hesitation. I walked into the room and greeted them.
“Hello Tain,” said Mari, smiling at me, and I was relieved to see that apart from the slight paleness to her features, and a slight tiredness to her eyes, there did not appear to be anything amiss in her face. In fact, she seemed in good spirits. “Why, you’re looking bright and shiny today!”
“Thankyou, the armour was a reward from Archbanker Tuttle,” I replied. “It appears that my good works have not gone unnoticed. Of course, I do not ask for or expect reward, but it is nice to be recognised.” I stopped, a little embarrassed, and scratched my short beard with a thumb, realising that my words had sounded somewhat preachy. “Where is Marcus this morning?” I asked, eager to change the subject. “Has he forgotten our appointment?”
“I don’t know,” Mari replied with a shrug of her delicate shoulders. “He received a letter in an unmarked envelope early this morning, apparently, and told the servants that he had to leave on a matter of business, that he would be back in a few hours. He didn’t say where he would be, I’m given to understand. I was asleep.” She didn’t seem particularly concerned at his absence.
“I arrived as he was getting ready to leave,” commented Aria. “He seemed to be in quite a hurry, a bit flustered - rushing around the place in that Tian robe he wears, looking for his pants.”
“Well,” said Mari, a twinkle in her eye, “it’s not like you’ve never seen him without his pants on before.”
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“Anyway ... I’ve just been updating Mari on our surveillance of Peryarv,” Aria said, with a sideways glance at her cousin, “and have remarked how helpful it would be if she would see fit to question Arius the Wise as to what was discussed between the pair of them yesterday.”
Mari rolled her eyes. “I told you Aria, he’s a respected professor, and certainly not some criminal or villain. I can’t just walk into his office and accuse him of something, or pry into his private business!”
“It’s not his business we’re interested in, it’s Peryarv’s,” sighed Aria. It sounded as if the two of them had already been over this ground a few times. “Arius will no doubt be wise enough to recognise the distinction. And you’re always going on about how good a teacher he is, and how he has taken a particular interest in your education – I’m sure he’ll not begrudge his favourite student asking him a few questions. It will certainly be better coming from you than from Tain or I.”
I nodded in agreement. “It is important that we find out what Peryarv is plotting – particularly if it is somehow involved in the activities of the Harbingers or the purple cloaks, or the explosions, or the disease, or the plot against the Queen … need I go on. Mari, I cannot emphasise enough how important this might be – can you help us?”
Mari sighed. “I really cannot see Peryarv and Arius sitting down to discuss anything seditious … but I’ll think about it. I’m not going to promise anything just yet, alright?”
“That will be most helpful Mari, thankyou,” I said, smiling.
Mari shot me a mock sour look, followed by a wink. Then her eyes widened as if remembering something. “Tain, you mentioned the purple-cloaks? Well, you two are not the only ones who have been doing some research. I have too, and I’ve discovered something more of the purple cloaks – well, not much, but at least we can now give them a name. I’ve discovered that they call themselves ‘The Vanguard of the Amethyst Lindorm.’”
“Lindorm …” mused Aria. “Sounds familiar, sort of Ulfen …”
Mari nodded. “The Linnorm Kings – Linnorm of course being the Skald word for dragon. Lindorm is a less widely used variant of Linnorm. The group does in fact appear to hail from the Land of the Linnorm Kings, they are some sort of secret society active in those northern lands, but I have managed to discover precious little of their goals or methods.”
“So, translated, they are the vanguard of the Amethyst Dragon?” I asked. “That sounds ominous.”
“Yes,” Mari agreed, “although it’s not clear whether or not the ‘Lindorm’ refers to an actual dragon. Of the so-called ‘true’ dragons, none is of a purple colour, nor are any of the catalogued linnorm dragons of the northern reaches. I’ve heard tales of gem dragons, and wyrms of colours such as yellow, brown and purple, but I’m not sure what truth there is to them.”
“Dragon,” Aria shook her head slowly. “Whether common or rare, real or figurative, I don’t like the sound of this.”
Tain’s Journal
Plans are discussed, some of them hypothetical
Morning, the 22nd of Calistril
Brock House
Marcus looked preoccupied when at last he arrived, troubled even. He seemed to notice Aria and I with some surprise, as if he had forgotten we were coming.
“Oh, hello, it’s Death and Taxes,” he greeted us gloomily. I was somewhat taken aback; the relationship between Marcus and I had become strained after Talia’s death, but since the night at Lamm’s fish processing plant we had become close again - comrades, brother in arms. We could even jest with each other, but Marcus’s comment seemed out of character, almost mean-spirited.
“You seem troubled Marcus,” I said. “Is there anything wrong? Do you want to talk?”
Marcus shook his head. “No. My apologies Tain, I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Mari, can I speak to you for a moment - privately?”
Aria, Mari and I explained glances. Perhaps Marcus’s mood was something to do with Mari’s new look? Mari raised an eyebrow, then nodded to Marcus and followed him out of the room.
While they were gone, Aria and I began discussing Peryarv, and what we could do about him, but came to the conclusion that there was little we could do without more evidence of his intentions. His status as a diplomat made the situation rather delicate … not to mention the fact that he was possibly too personally powerful for us to defeat in battle should the situation come to that.
“Well,” said Aria slowly. “If we can’t attack him, we can’t arrest him, and we can’t rely on the authorities for help, perhaps we can seek help from … less desirable elements.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning.
“I was thinking we could speak to Devargo Barvasi. He seems like a man who keeps his ear to the ground … and he helped us last time we had problems with a foreign ambassador.”
I stared at her, incredulous. “Barvasi? Assuming he can help us … do you really think he would?”
Aria shrugged, an uncharacteristically impish grin on her face. “I have no idea. He might just be intrigued enough to hear us out though. And if he comes looking for trouble, I’m sure you and your flail can sort him out … again. Let’s invite him to lunch, in neutral territory somewhere. Say in Northpoint?”
“Well,” I began, not certain this was a wise idea, but figuring we had little to lose - and that Aria was right, we could handle him if he turned into trouble. “There’s a little restaurant I know, not far from the bridge to Old Korvosa …”
Aria sat and began penning a short letter to Barvasi, before handing it off to one of the household servants to organise for it to be delivered. I did not know how this would pan out, but had little doubt that Barvasi would pay close attention to a letter with our names attached to it.
Shortly afterwards, Marcus and Mari re-entered the room. “Tain, Aria,” Marcus began. “I have a question for you both, based on a hypothetical situation. Say that someone you knew had been accused of a crime, but you had good reason to believe that they were innocent - and further, that they would not receive a fair trial. If they came to you asking for help to escape, what would you do?”
Even though the question had been asked of both of us, I suspected that Marcus directed it more at me. “It sounds similar to the situation we faced recently with Trinia Sabore,” I answered. “And you know what I did in that case.”
“Yes, yes,” Marcus said, waving his hand as if dismissing an annoying fly, “but in this hypothetical situation you have good reason to believe that no fair trial will be heard, unlike that situation - what then?”
“Well, hypothetically, I would need some degree of proof, both of innocence and the unfairness of any potential trial,” I answered frowning. “If I had it, then, hypothetically, I may well try to protect this person from the hypothetically corrupt or misinformed authorities until I could root out the cause of the hypothetically unfair trial.”
“Oh forget hypothetical!” Mari cried, looking crossly between Marcus and myself. “In the case of Trinia Sabore, should you find where she was and she ask for your help, what then?”
“Do you know where she is Marcus?” I asked. “And if her - then Blackjack - what of him?”
Marcus studied me carefully. “Let us just say I have come by some information - nothing more at this stage. And as for Blackjack, I do not know who he is.”
I am a fair judge of character, and can usually tell when someone is lying, or avoiding telling the whole truth. Marcus, for his part, is an excellent diplomat and negotiator - and, when he needs to be, a good liar. I could not tell exactly what he knew or didn’t, though obviously he had had some word of Trinia at the least, and I noted that he had avoided answering my question on her whereabouts.
“In the case of Trinia, it would be my duty to return her to custody, should I learn of her whereabouts,” I said, looking pointedly at Marcus, “unless I could be provided with a compelling argument as to why her trial would not be fair, or why her life would be in danger if I did so.” I kept looking at Marcus, silently willing him to give me a reason to help the girl if he knew more than he was saying.
He looked back at me, seemed about to say something, paused, then spoke - something different to what he had been about to say I believe. “When you spoke to Blackjack on the rooftop, he seemed to think Trinia’s life was in danger.”
I shook my head. “I am afraid I need something more than the suspicions of a wanted vigilante, however good his intentions may or may not be,” I said, frustration creeping into my voice. I took a deep breath. “But, if you could convince me … then yes, I believe she is innocent, and I would help her if I could. At least try to keep her safe until her innocence could be more universally proved.”
Aria spoke up. “Assume for a moment Marcus that you are able to convince us - through evidence or argument - to help, and that you knew where Trinia was. What then? What would you do?”
“If you did find where she was, and wanted to protect her,” I said, “it would be dangerous - for you, your family, and possibly Trinia too - to keep her here at Brock House.” Behind Marcus I saw Mari nodding in agreement, as if she had recently said the same thing to Marcus.
“No, I was thinking that she would be safest outside the city,” Marcus said. “If things were ever to come to that point, I could think of several locations …”
“That’s very dangerous Marcus,” I said. “If you were caught smuggling her out of the city, you would be arrested for certain. And once she was outside, what would stop her running away entirely? It might be difficult to prove her innocence once she has fled.”
“I know the danger,” Marcus said, “but it might be the safest thing for her. If someone is trying to kill her, they will have more trouble finding her outside of Korvosa. And I don’t think she will run … she’s a city girl from Cheliax from what we have heard. She’ll have few friends outside of the city, and little knowledge of the countryside, or of how to survive in the wild.” Marcus sighed. “Anyway, let us drop this. It really is a hypothetical situation for now, as we don’t yet know where she is.”
There was an awkward silence. I did not think Marcus’s last statement was entirely truthful, but did not wish to strain things between us by calling him out on it.
Aria broke the silence by updating Marcus on what we had learnt over the past few days, and finishing were her intention to meet with Barvasi. “Would you like to join us?” she asked Mari and Marcus.
“Certainly!” Mari answered. I expected Marcus to object, but was sitting staring off into space, obviously brooding on his ‘hypothetical’ situation, and neither answered Aria nor objected to Mari’s answer.
“Lunch is not for several hours,” I said, “and there is something else that has been bothering me that I would like to investigate in the meantime. It may be nothing … but the ship, the Direption out of Cheliax that sunk after the Perraxian Eagle exploded … I wonder if the placement of the two ships was intentional? Did someone mean to sink the Direption? And … did you read yesterday’s Korvosan Times? Apparently some of the cargo that was retrieved from the sinking Direption was stolen from the docks. Perhaps I am merely seeing invisible imps, but I wonder whether there is some plot here. At any rate, I thought I would go and see the dock-master and try to discover what the cargo was that went missing.”
Aria and Mari agreed this was a good idea, and said they would come with me. “I have some business to attend to today,” Marcus said suddenly, “so I am afraid I cannot join you.”
“Marcus,” Mari began, glancing at me, “you won’t do anything stupid, will you?”
“It’s just business,” Marcus said gently. “I need to visit the estate. I won’t be in danger and I shan’t be long - I’ll see you back here after lunch.”
As I said before, Marcus was a good liar, and I could not be certain that his words were not true… but I suspected they were not. I suspected that he had resolved to help Trinia, and was off to put some sort of plan into motion - and I would not stop him. I truly thought that Trinia was innocent, and suspected some truth in the idea that she was not safe in official custody, but my oaths prevented me helping her without harder evidence than my gut feeling. By the same token though, my oaths did not compel me to stop Marcus when I had no hard evidence that he was helping her - just a gut feeling.
Inwardly I sighed. I walked a fine line between obeying the letter of the law and its intent, but in Korvosa, with its laws and punishments which took much from draconian Cheliax, it was sometimes a line that needed to be walked. I just prayed to Abadar that Marcus knew what he was doing.
As my thoughts were wandering thusly, Gavick brought in a letter that had just arrived for Mari. She retired to her room to read it, while Marcus instructed the footman to make ready his horse for a ride outside the city.
When Mari came back downstairs a few minutes later, she said, “I’ll not be joining you at the docks after all. I’ve decided I’ll do as you asked of my earlier, and speak to Arius about Peryarv. I’ll see you at lunch.” She then turned to Marcus. “I hope your business goes well,” she said, an almost imperceptible quaver to her voice. “I’ll see you in the afternoon.”
Tain’s Journal
The missing cargo
Morning, the 22nd of Calistril
The section of the Midland docks where the explosion had occurred was still closed off to the public and ships, while the cleanup took place. We made our way past the Sable Company cordon and sought out the harbor master, who, though harried, seemed happy enough to answer questions only tangentially related to the explosion.
By a quirk of chance (or, to the more suspicious minded, a result of meticulous timing), the Perraxian Eagle had exploded only minutes after the last of the Direption’s cargo had been unloaded. Although the Direption was badly damaged by the explosion, and sunk beneath the waters of the harbor minutes later, the ship’s bulk shielded the boxes, crates and barrels waiting on the dock from the blast.
The harbor master had been provided with a cargo manifest prior to unloading, and it was a check against this list, several hours after the explosion, in combination with the testimony of the foreman of the dockworker crew who had unloaded the ship that it was discovered that three small boxes had been unloaded and subsequently gone missing from the docks, presumably stolen in the confusion after the explosion.
The cargo manifest had the content of the three boxes listed as ‘Chelaxian wood art’. It did not list where the boxes were to be delivered – this information was presumably contained in a more detailed ledger which might be with the Direption’s captain, but was just as likely on the harbor bottom with the jigsaw sharks and reefclaws. The captain was being housed – currently at the city’s expense until the legal ramifications of the explosion could be untangled – at a nearby inn.
We found the captain – a weathered old sea dog named Jack Harkness – drowning his considerable sorrows at the bar in the common room. He was certainly not happy at having lost his ship, and not much in the mood for talking about a few missing boxes. However, it is not easy to ignore the combined efforts of a paladin of Abadar and a priest of Pharasma, and it was inevitable that eventually Captain Harkness would speak to us (death and taxes indeed, as Marcus had said).
After buying him the expected social lubrication, the captain told us that the three stolen boxes had been delivered to his ship in Westcrown via a barge from Egorian – a special delivery, but he did not know by whom. He was shown the contents of one of the boxes – a small, finely made coffer containing a couple of dozen finely carved and polished wooden statuettes, each about three inches in height. He was told that the other two boxes had similar contents, but did not view them.
He no longer had the detailed cargo manifest that listed the destination of the boxes, but he seemed to remember that ‘Korvosan’ was in the name – the Korvosan Trading Company, or something similar to it. In any event, no one had come searching for their missing cargo.
With this information in hand, Aria and I left the captain to his cups and went to meet Mari ahead of our lunch appointment,
Tain’s Journal
Lunch with Barvasi
Early afternoon, the 22nd of Calistril
The Laughing Sails Inn
“It doesn’t look as if he’s going to show,” Aria said, disappointed. She, Mari and myself sat at a table in the main taproom of the Laughing Sails Inn, with a good view of the doors and the entire room, waiting for Devargo Barvasi to arrive.
“Perhaps,” I said, nodding subtly towards the group of rough looking armed men sitting at the table near the door – men who would look more at home at Eel’s End than here in Northpoint. We had already determined that they were probably Barvasi’s hired thugs, but whether they were here to scout the place for Barvasi’s eventual arrival, or just to cause trouble for us, we did not know. For now we had agreed to ignore them.
We had just about given up waiting, and resolved to order some lunch, when the inn’s front doors opened and in strolled Devargo Barvasi himself. He’d forgone the spider-themed leather armour and bladed gauntlets that we’d seen him wearing at Eel’s End in favour of a dark coloured but fashionable tunic and cloak decorated in silvery spider web patterns, no doubt trusting in the public nature of the place to protect him from any hostilities. He ignored the table of thugs (though they certainly noticed his arrival, straightening up and putting hands to weapon hilts as he walked by) and walked straight over to our table.
“Well, well,” he drawled, stopping a few feet away and appraising us, arms folded across his chest. “Ariadnae and Marianna Merivanchi and Tain Locus … you have a lot of nerve inviting me out to lunch after what you pulled last time we met. What is it you want exactly.”
I stood and nodded slightly to the crime boss. “We’re not here as friends Barvasi,” I said, “but neither do we need to be enemies … for now. We believe that we may be able to help each other.”
“Help you?” Barvasi laughed harshly. “Why on Golarion would I want to help you?”
“Because we have common enemies,” I said seriously. “I will be straight with you – I don’t like you, and I don’t like your operation … but for the most part it does appear to be a legitimate, if unsavoury business. You pay your vice taxes, you keep addicts and sinners off the streets, and you know your bounds. These newer groups – the crew that Lamm was part of, and the purple-cloaks, do not. They are a danger to this city and its people … and that is bad for your business. You want them gone, we want them gone … maybe we can help each other.”
Barvasi studied me carefully, then glanced at Mari and Aria. “Alright,” he said slowly. “I don’t like you either, but you’ve intrigued me. May I?” He gestured to a seat at our table, and when we nodded our assent, sat down, as did I. “So … how is it you think we can help each other on this matter.”
“You have access to information that we don’t,” said Aria, “but then the reverse is also true. If we pool our information, perhaps we can find something that will allow us to find and defeat these groups. That should be worth something to you.”
“Perhaps,” said Barvasi. “Let’s start by exchanging information – what do you know?”
“To begin with, we know their names, which may help,” I said. Then Aria, Mari and myself began explaining the admittedly little that we knew of the Harbingers of Doom and the Vanguard of the Amethyst Lindorm, concluding with our strong suspicion that at least one of these groups was behind the recent explosions, and our more tenuous suspicion that Peryarv Legran was involved in one or both of the groups.
“You may well be right in regards to the explosions,” Barvasi said. “As for Ambassador Legran, I do not know … unlike the Chelaxian Ambassador, Legran does not frequent my establishment, and I do not have anything on him. As for the rest … well, it seems that you know most of what I know already – how these groups appeared, the war with the Cerulean Society, the taking and holding of territory … and you know names and something of agendas, which I did not.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, stroking the stubble on his chin.
“There’s really not much I can tell you that you don’t know … but I do know a little more about the Purple Cloaks, the ones you call the Vanguard. They don’t operate like any other criminal organization I’ve seen – which fits I suppose, since you think they’re some cult. They’ve driven the Thieves Guild out of their territory, but they haven’t organized or taken over gambling, prostitution, theft, protection rackets, anything like that – just narcotics. Supplying drugs … as far as we can tell, apart from killing off Guild members, that’s all they do. Oh, and they’ve been particularly fierce about protecting the territory they’ve taken along the docks, more so than the rest of the city.”
“We’re trying to track down some boxes that were stolen from the docks just after the Perraxian Eagle exploded,” I said. “Do you think the Vanguard may have had a hand in taking them?”
Barvasi shrugged. “Perhaps … it certainly wasn’t the Thieves Guild, we don’t have anyone operating in the area.” The three of us exchanged brief glances – Barvasi did not seem aware that he had let slip his affiliation with the Thieves Guild – or perhaps he didn’t realise that we didn’t already know this. “Scuttlebutt suggests it was some locals – non professionals – who picked up the boxes,” Barvasi continued. He looked at Aria. “Actually, you’ve got a friend who might know something more about that.”
Aria looked surprised for a moment, and then comprehension seemed to dawn and she nodded. I wasn’t sure who they meant – Felix perhaps?
“At any rate, I’ll keep my ear to the ground, and I’ll let you know if I hear anything that I think might be useful in shutting these groups down,” the boss of Eel’s End said. “Now … have you ordered any food yet?”
We had lunch, and as uncomfortable as I was with Barvasi, I have to admit he played quite the gentleman, before leaving some coins on the table once he had finished and taking his leave, striding out of the inn followed by the group of thugs at the other table.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” Aria said as the three of us left the inn a few minutes later. We began to walk down the street when I noticed a rather disheveled looking man heading our way, his eyes fixed on me. He was probably in his late twenties or early thirties, lower middle class by his clothing, but was in quite a state, and looked and smelt as though he had been drinking heavily. When he spoke though, his words were clear enough.
“Please sir,” he said, approaching me and tugging at his forelock. “You’re a priest of Abadar aren’t you?” I nodded in the affirmative. “Please, my family needs help. My niece is sick. I don’t know what she has and neither does anyone in Trail’s End. She’s broken out all over in red pocks and can barely keep down food, or even the swill that good for nothing herbalist gave her. Her mother’s gone to the Bank of Abadar, but we can’t afford to pay the prices the clerics demand. My sister and I sat outside crying and praying; I felt compelled to run to every church and ask for help. Abadar has led me to you when all others have turned me away! Please you must help my niece! We can pay, we just don’t have all the Bank is asking just yet …”
“Slow down my friend,” I said. “I am a paladin of Abadar – and yes, I will help you if I can – I have no need of payment.”
“Yes, if there’s a sick child – we’ll help you,” added Aria, concern etched on her face. We exchanged glances – disease! This may be what we feared.
“Tain – a moment please,” Mari was tugging on my cloak, pulling me away from the man. “Do you really trust this man?” she asked in a low voice. “You’re just going to follow him into Trail’s End?” Trail’s End was a poor section of town, across the river, only infrequently patrolled by the Guard and with a large Varisian population. Nobles, and even those of Chelaxian descent were often not welcomed there. “We have made a lot of enemies recently – we could be walking into an ambush!”
“If we are, then I have my flail and my faith,” I answered. “But someone has asked for my help, and I will give it. And if there truly is a sick child, an innocent – I cannot turn my back on that.”
Tain’s Journal
A very sick little girl
Mid afternoon, the 22nd of Calistril
Trail’s End
The man, who gave his name as Grau, led us through the streets towards Trail’s End. His sister Tayce, he explained almost apologetically as we walked, had married a Varisian man, hence their living in this part of the city.
The streets in Eel’s End were narrow and twisting, with buildings crowded close to the road, and as many dwellings seeming to be makeshift hovels, canvas tents or wooden wagons as solidly built buildings. Grau’s family though did live in a building, a very narrow two storey house with a faded façade. We entered the dwelling and Grau led us upstairs, past the gaze of several young, wide eyed children hiding on the other side of the banister, and to the door of one of the upstairs bedrooms.
At the doorway we were met by a care-worn woman in faded, oft-patched skirts. Beyond her, I could see a small girl in a bed, coughing harshly, whilst being tended to by a dark haired man wearing gold and white robes, his back to us.
“Oh Grau, I found a priest who might be able to help,” the woman said, hugging Grau before pulling away and shrugging. “But he’s not sure …”
“So did I, maybe,” said Grau, introducing us to the woman, his sister Tayce. As we moved into the room, the robed man stood and walked towards us, and I recognized him as Ishani Dhatri, a junior cleric at the Bank of Abadar. We exchanged greetings, and then Ishani gestured us from the room to speak quietly to us about the girl, Brienna.
“She has been afflicted with some disease, but it is not one that I have seen before,” said the priest, a worried look on his face. “The symptoms include a blotchy red rash on her face and upper body, a high fever, sweats, delirium, a hacking wet cough – as you can hear – and swollen lymph nodes.” He looked at me apologetically. “Unfortunately, most perfect Abadar has not yet seen fit to grant me the power to remove diseases. Paladin Tain, mistress Ariadnae, do either of you …?” We shook our heads, and Ishani sighed. “You know how it is paladin – most of our order do not believe in charity, and I could not persuade a move senior Banker to accompany me.”
“I thank you for your good heart Cleric Ishani,” I said. “We will do what we can.”
The cleric nodded. “Although I have not been able to remove the disease magically, I am a student of herbal lore … so far nothing I have tried has had much success …” He and Aria launched into a discussion of herbal remedies as we moved into to examine the girl. She was sleeping fitfully, her symptoms as Ishani had described. I laid my hands upon her brow and asked for Abadar’s blessings, and healing energy flowed into her, relieving her pain and allowing her to sink into a deeper, more restful sleep … but all I did was make her more comfortable, I did not have the power to remove the disease.
Aria and Mari both examined the girl with magic, confirming that there was no magic or poison at work here – it seemed this was a natural disease, just a particularly serious one, and one that none of us had seen before. The symptoms did not seem to match the ones reported from the Zone in Old Korvosa at least, but that was little comfort to Brienna or her family. Aria also prayed over the girl, but with little more success than I had had. We had all realized that without proper help the girl did not have long to live.
“I’ll not let that happen,” I said, having moved away from the girl’s bedside. “I will go to the Bank of Abadar and pay for a senior priest to come here and heal your daughter.” I reasoned that I had near enough liquid assets to cover such a cost, and if needs be I could sell something to make up the remaining money.
“Oh no, we can’t let you do that!” spoke Grau, before his sister could thank me. “We’ve managed to dig into our savings, between Tayce and myself, call in some debts, sell some things … we’re only fifty gold sails short of the price the priests at your temple were asking. But if you could make up the shortfall, we would appreciate it.”
I nodded. “Yes, I can do that.” Although I had been ready to pay the full amount, I appreciated that this family was trying to find a way to help themselves. I began counting out the shortfall from my money pouch. Aria also offered to pay some or all of the shortfall, but I waved her away, feeling somewhat responsible, given that Grau had first approached me, and that it was my church that had originally turned he and his sister away.
“We need to find out how the girl got sick,” Aria murmured to me. “It will be a great pity to save her only to have the rest of her family die.” I nodded. It had escaped neither of our attention, now that we recognized the symptoms that Tayce was starting to develop a rash, and at least one of the other children in the household was stifling a cough.
I handed the money to Ishani. “Please make haste to the bank and bring a priest capable of curing disease,” I said. Ishani agreed. “The money will bring them running,” he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. I clapped my hand briefly on his shoulder, pleased to see that there was at least one other amongst my brethren who did not agree with the Bank’s stance on charity.
Tain’s Journal
Disease
Mid afternoon, the 22nd of Calistril
Trail’s End
“When did Brienna first become sick?” Aria asked Tayce and Grau. The two glanced at each other, and I could tell they were nervous about something. “The morning of the 20th was when we noticed it,” Tayce answered. “And has anyone else you know been sick?” the priestess continued.
“Well … I think perhaps we’re coming down with it too,” said Tayce, stifling a cough. “And in the last day or so many people in the neighbourhood have begun feeling sick too.” Grau nodded. “Just about everyone we’ve been in contact with,” he said.
“Do you have any idea why that might be?” I asked. Again, Grau and Tayce looked at each other, shame-faced. “Even if you think you have done something wrong, it is important that you tell us,” I continued gently. “We don’t want any more people to get sick.”
“Alright,” said Grau, standing up straight. “Well, see, I was down at the socks the other day, with young Brienna, just after that ship blew up, when we noticed two silver boxes, just sitting there. Well sir, we’re not thieves, but … well, times are hard, and I decided to take the boxes. When we got them home and opened them, we found each one contained silver coins. New shiny coins, exactly thirty in each box. Well, we all went out and did some shopping … and now all the merchants we visited have become sick, and a lot of their other customers …”
“The disease is being spread through the coins!” I exclaimed in wonder.
“Do you still have the boxes, or any of the coins?” asked Mari sharply.
It turned out that the family had spent most of the coins, except for one that Grau had given Brienna in thanks for helping him with the boxes. The boxes themselves were stuffed in a storage area under the stair – the family had not yet sold them.
Once they were produced, Mari waved her hand above the boxes, examining them closely without touching them. “They radiate an aura of magic,” she said quietly to us. “Necromancy and transmutation.”
Meanwhile, I was examining the coin, confident that my faith would protect me from any disease. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the coin – it was a recently minted silver coin of Chelaxian origin – there must be thousands of similar coins in the city, as Chelaxian money was legal tender in Korvosa. “Were all the other coins similar to this?” I asked Grau. He confirmed that they all looked like Chelaxian silver pieces, and were all quite shiny as if new. It seemed that the family had spent the coins at a dozen different shops over the past two days, and after a brief discussion we realized it was futile to try to track down all the coins – they were probably far spread by now, and the disease was no doubt being passed directly from person to person, not just via the coins.
Soon enough Ishani returned with a more senior priest from the Bank, who (after having been paid the required amount), spent several moments of prayer over Brienna before announcing her cured. Already the rash had faded from her skin and her breathing was easier as she slept peacefully. After receiving heartfelt thanks and promises of lifelong friendship from Grau and Tayce, we retired with the two Abadaran priests to discuss the situation. Our order (and the other temples in the city) would need to be alerted to the fact that a dangerous and virulent disease was spreading through the city. I proposed that the Bank try to segregate any recently minted Chelaxian silver coins that passed the counters, for what little good that would do – it was clear that we would soon have an epidemic on our hands.
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Ah, I'm glad to see that Tain and his friends are back!
We’re back. Well, we’ve been playing all along, but we all got pretty lax about keeping up our campaign journals. I’m trying to catch up, but I can’t say how long this burst of productivity will last!
The journal I’m currently posting is from the session we played back on the 19th of February. We haven’t missed a fortnightly game since then, but we’ve had a few player (and GM) absences that have slowed things down, so the overall story hasn’t progressed as far as you might expect – we’re still dealing with the Red Veil plague that is just starting to spread in this session (although we seem to have it mostly under control now). Several sessions have been side treks or filler games. GM Ollie has indicated that we’re probably about one or two sessions away from finishing Book Two.
By the way, the post by Marianna (Chubbs) on the previous page detailing a fight between her and Marcus happened immediately after the session I’m now posting about.
Tain’s Journal
An invitation to a secret meeting
Late afternoon and early evening, the 22nd of Calistril
Brock House
After Aria and I had informed our respective churches of the danger we felt threatened the city, we returned independently to Brock House as agreed earlier in the day. Marcus had also returned from his ride in the countryside looking none the worse for wear – it seemed to me that he had discussed something of his day’s jaunt with Mari, for they both looked at me with what I took to be slightly guilty expressions when I arrived – but they said nothing, and I did not press the issue.
We all sat down to take an early dinner. The main topic of conversation was the disease – we shared what we had learned with Marcus, and he in turn relayed that he had noticed people bearing similar symptoms in the southern part of the city – so it seemed that the illness had already spread. Aria again urged Marcus to safeguard his household against the disease, and I suggested that trying to rid the house of all Chelaxian silver coins may be a small measure that might help.
During dinner, a written message arrived for Mari, and she retired to her room to read it. She returned to the table presently, a determined look on her face.
“As you all know, I went to see Arius the Wise earlier today,” she said. “I’ve been hesitant to tell you all what I discussed with him, as he asked me to bide my time, but he has just sent me a letter asking me to reveal some of what was discussed and invite you to a meeting.” She took a deep breath and then continued.
“As some of you suspect, Arius is a wizard. Yes, it is he who has been helping me develop my skill with magic. He has kept this secret because he is not a member of the Acadamae, and I must ask you all to keep this between us, as well as what follows – agreed? Good … well, I discovered today that Arius is also a member of a group known as The Grey Council, a network of mages in the city opposed to the Acadamae. Peryarv visited Arius – and many of the other people he has been looking in on the past few days – because he is a senior member of this group. How Peryarv came by this information Arius does not know, and it concerns him, lest the Acadamae also come by it, or Peryarv uses it to blackmail him somehow.
“Peryarv invited Arius and the other senior council members to a meeting, to discuss something important but unspecified. Arius has just received word that this meeting is taking place tonight – an hour from now, at the seventh bell, at the auction house where we encountered Peryarv before. Arius has asked if we may attend, as his bodyguards, as he suspects trouble. I intend to go – can I count on all of you as well?”
We debated this for a few minutes – a trap seemed possible, but in the end we decided that at the least we might discover something useful, and at best we would get an opportunity to take Peryarv down or bring him into our custody. We readied ourselves quickly, geared for the battle we suspected was coming.
Tain’s Journal
Peryarv and the Grey Council
Evening, the 22nd of Calistril
The auction house on Summoning Street
Having met Arius outside and negotiated our way past the ogre-like bouncer, we made our way into the main gallery of the secret auction room beneath the house on Summoning Street. There were perhaps twenty to thirty people present (and more arriving), most cloaked and hooded to obscure their identities (as we were to some degree), but we understood from Arius that the eight members of the Grey Council were in attendance, and each of them had brought along advisers or bodyguards (as Arius had in us).
Arius had hurriedly thanked us for coming, explaining that he did not know what the evening’s meeting might entail, but that he wanted help along should trouble break out, or should the whole meeting turn out to be a trap. He urged us to stay peaceable until and unless physical hostilities were to break out – and to keep an open mind about what might be discussed.
The main floor of the auction room was set up with a raised speakers platform at one end, and eight lecterns arranged in an arc around it, several yards back. Arius went to stand behind one of the lecterns, and we stood in a wedge behind him, with the other council members and their retinues taking similar formations.
After a few minutes, by which time all of the Grey Council members seemed to have arrived, the main doors opened again, and in swept Peryarv, looking as haughty as usual, with two large, muscular men, armed and armoured, in tow.
As Peryarv passed where we were standing he paused, looking at us intently, and apparently recognizing us despite our crude disguises. “It’s nice to see you on your feet Priestess of Pharasma,” he said, addressing Aria, a slight sneer in his voice. “I do apologise for how things happened last time, but then you did attack me. Worry not, there are no hard feelings … yet.” He then turned to Mari, looking her up and down for a moment before saying, “You show great potential. It is a crime to keep you restricted like a leashed dog to just one teacher, even one as good as Arius. You deserve to be free, as do we all.”
I remained silent … for I was looking at Peryarv and his goons through the eyes of a paladin, looking for the evil that I was sure was within him – but to my surprise I sensed none. Had I misjudged the man? Were his actions not, in fact, motivated by evil? Or had I merely underestimated him, had he used magic to disguise his true aura? I could not tell.
One of the Grey Council members (his low hood disguising his identity to our eyes), moved up to the central platform, calling the meeting to order. “There are many new people here with us tonight,” he noted, looking over the crowd. “I must remind you all that you have been invited to this meeting in good faith, and emphasis the need for secrecy. As usual, what is discussed here is for the ears of those present only.”
That might be the intent, but I had taken no such oath of secrecy. I would use my own judgment as to whether I needed to report to my superiors on what took place tonight.
The speaker then recognized Peryarv of Magnimar and invited him to speak, before returning to stand behind his own lectern. Perayarv nodded and moved up to the platform, his bodyguards standing beside him.
“My fellow wizards,” Peryarv began. “Magic was once free in this great city. Magic was once respected, allowed to breath, to be its own creature. We all know there is no one true magic, just as there is no one true path to reach magic. Every form of magic and study must be respected, must be allowed to be free to develop to its full potential.
“The Acadamae... turned some twenty years ago. Corruption of the highest order brought their order into the sights of evil. They closed their hearts to the true nature of magic, began to think that their way was the only way for magic. That through them, and their training, all magic must come. They did not see the evil that tainted their thoughts, or their hearts, making them greedy for power. Wantonly they reached for control of magic in Korvosa, and I assure you it must be just a stepping stone onto their path to dominate the world.
“We cannot let that happen. The time has come for all arcane magic users to band together as one in this city, and stand before the so-called Acadamae and demand our freedom! That we may stand tall and proud as mages, that we are not lesser creatures because we choose another way to study and use magic. For the very life force of the universe manifests in us just as it manifests in them! We are mages! We shall be respected! We must stand and require that freedom!”
By the end Peryarv was shouting, his long face red. The Council members (and others present) were obviously startled, clearly not having expected this. There was a murmur of voices. “What is he playing at?” muttered Marcus.
One Council member spoke up, his voice cutting through the whispers and muttering. “Your goals are worthy, and you must know we have talked for twenty years of finding a way to come forward and claim our right to practice without the Acadamae ruling our lives. But they are stronger than us, they outnumber us, and we have been broken since the Day of Consolidation. Even if Lord Grestuv himself stood with us now, we would not be enough! And he lies dead at the hands of the Acadamae, killed on that mournful Day.”
Peryarv looked at the man, nodded slowly, then threw his arms out beside him. I felt a static pressure drawing up in the room, and began to draw my flail, but Mari put a hand on my arm and shook her head. “Watch,” she whispered.
The electricity in the room grew, people’s hair standing on ends, small white sparks jumping from metal objects. An alternating purple and while aura began pulsing around Peryarv’s body, a translucent silver form seeming to float through it. The Council members seemed shocked by the demonstration of raw magical power.
“I am Lord Grestuv,” Peryarv’s voice boomed out. “Though severely wounded that Day, I managed to escape the city. It has taken me many long years to heal my body, more still to reclaim the power I once held. Now I stand before you twice the mage I ever was before! And I will not let that so-called Acadamae of magic stand as it is! We must fight! Fight with me my brothers! Fight and reclaim our right to freedom!”
The room immediately interrupted into furious discussions and cries, some seeming to believe Peryarv (or Grestuv), some not, some agreeing with him, others not.
“If he’s telling the truth,” began Mari, her eyes shining, “and that demonstration of power was certainly real – this could be our chance to end the tyranny of the Acadamae!”
“I certainly have no love of the Acadamae or their methods,” I said, “but the city can ill afford a war between wizards right now, with the threat of plague imminent – and the Acadamae itself perhaps protecting us from a second and worse plague! Peryarv risks plunging Korvosa into suffering and anarchy.”
“Who will protect the innocents in this war of wizards!” Area yelled loudly, to the room in general.
“This is madness,” said Marcus, grabbing Mari’s arm. “Mari, you can’t be thinking of involving yourself in this – it’s far too dangerous.”
Mari wrenched free. “Are you forbidding me Marcus?” she asked dangerously, as the room became more and more chaotic around her.
“Enough!” Peryarv’s deep voice boomed out, for the most part quieting the talk and argument. “We deserve our freedom! I will not let this so-called Acadamae stand! I fight them, with or without you! I declare WAR on the Acadamae!”
Before anyone could say anything in support or otherwise, or make a move to stop him, Peryarv had stepped down from the speaker’s platform, his bodyguards clearing him a path as he swept from the room. In his wake, the room once again began to break out into arguments.
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One of the humorous highlights of Friday night’s session (which will probably not make it into Tain’s journal, as he was not present at the time); Agon finds himself somewhat the worse for (spiked) drink at a reception at Castle Korvosa, and is taken away by two Grey Maidens to ‘cool off’. Agon, who has a thing for Sabine Merrin, starts quipping about ‘take me to your leader’ and ‘I think I just need a lie down – which way to Sabine’s bed chamber?’.
One of the Grey Maidens, appalled at the lack of respect towards her boss, went to elbow Agon in the ribs, GM Ollie gave Agon’s player a Reflex save to avoid. Agon rolled a 20 on the Reflex save, and immediately parlayed this success into a Combat Maneouvre roll, to grab the Grey Maiden – and perform a brief dancestep with her before releasing her, which is exactly what he did.
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Written by Ollie and Mothman
‘A Matter of Most Importance’ (Part 1)
The 23rd of Calistril
The morning light filtered through the large stain glass windows, spreading a deep yellow and red across the marbled floor. The prayers and preaching of the morning service provided a steady low mumble through this part of the temple, mingled with the harsh clash as the coin counters worked through yesterday's offerings.
Tain stood before Cleric Sinder, the duty watch man for this shift. Cleric Sinder stood barely to Tain's sternum but carried himself with the sureness often only seen in the Dwarves. The light glimmered on his shaven head, almost producing a halo. Almost.
"These are very serious allegations, Tain. I do not doubt you, but you must understand the position we are in."
Tain gave small nod of acknowledgement.
"I will need to raise this with my superiors. I would expect them to speak with you personally, to gather what facts they can. I shall relieve you of patrol this morning in case they require your services. I suggest spending your time helping our clerics or perhaps taking time for prayer." Cleric Sinder did not wait for a reply before walking away; he expected full compliance from Tain.
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Not more than an hour later, Tain found his private prayers interrupted. A messenger, a young boy not even old enough to shave but keen for the ways of the service, stood waiting for a reply.
"I beg your pardon?" said Tain.
"The Archbanker wants you. Come on!"
Tain raised an eyebrow to the boy. "Your enthusiasm is to be admired, boy, but I think there is much to be learned of humility and patience."
A curt nod and blushing cheeks were the only reply.
Tain followed the messenger through to the Archbanker's personal meeting room. The Archbanker sat waiting behind his large desk. Several other high ranking church leaders sat waiting, lined up in a semi-circle next to the Archbanker.
The Archbanker pointed to single chair positioned in the middle of the circle. "Please, be seated. We wish you to tell us what you know of Peryarv."
Tain nodded in acknowledgement, and took the seat as indicated. He would have preferred to stand, but one does not refuse a request from the Archbanker.
“Yes your grace,” he said formally once seated. “Before I begin, I must make two confessions. The first; I am aware, of course, of our order’s stricture’s regarding the burden of proof. I am further aware that not all of what I have to say will meet that requirement, except by my word as a paladin of Most Perfect Abadar – but I feel that the possible threat to our city is great enough that I must report what I know, despite the lack of solid evidence.
“The second; Much of what I have learnt on this matter was divulged at a secret meeting to which I was invited. The invitation was extended on the trust that I would not divulge the identity of the attendees at the meeting, nor the particulars of what was said. However, I was given leeway in that if one particular attendee acted dangerously, I was to act against him. That attendee was the man calling himself Peryarv Lagren, and I do feel that his actions – his words – were dangerous; and so, by telling you what I know, I act against him. However, my vow prevents me from divulging the identity of the other attendees, or what else was said at this meeting. Know that to the best of my knowledge, no laws of our city, or Laws of our God were broken by these other attendees, and no crimes were committed.
“So then; I know that Peryarv of Magnimar has some quarrel with the House Arkona, and that the night before the Queen’s coronation he was taken into their custody after hostilities between them. I know that he was not seen in the city by reputable witnesses for several days after that.
“I know that in the last week – prior to common knowledge of the outbreak of plague that now afflicts our fair city – Peryarv has spent several thousand gold pieces purchasing scrolls of Cure Disease at the temple of Shelyn. I know that witnesses reported a man closely matching Peryarv’s description present at the robbing of one of our order’s banks on the 19th of Calistril, apparently using magic to assist in the theft. I have observed Peryarv using arcane magic.
“Peryarv was present at the meeting I mentioned before – in fact, he called it. At this meeting, he revealed his name to be Grestuv, an arch-mage rumoured to have been killed by Acadamae wizards a decade ago. Several of the other people present at this meeting were wizards who may be opposed to the Acadamae’s laws and philosophies. Peryarv or Grestus declared that he intended to make war against the Acadamae with a sense of urgency, and urged the other wizards to join him. He indicated that he would do so whether or not they helped.
“I know that I could detect no evil from the man calling himself Peryarv last night, but I know also that even the senses of a paladin can be tricked. Evil or not, I believe that Peryarv’s intent, at this time, poses a serious threat to the safety of Korvosa.
“I have little love for the philosophies of the Acadamae, and I would not mourn their downfall, or a change in their leadership. However, with our city threatened by disease and anarchy, and with the Acadamae seemingly guarding against a greater threat, the mage war that Peryarv – or Grestuv – proposes could threaten us all. That is what I know, praise Abadar.”
"Praise be to Abadar indeed," said the Archbanker. "This is quite a turn of events.
"On one hand I - we - do not trust those foul Acadamae fools and would love to see an end to their Chelaxian influence. But on the other, we cannot afford mages to be destroying the city and hurting innocent people. Peryarv's actions have not been pure, by all accounts, yet I wish to learn more of his intentions."
The Archbanker turned to look at the other church leaders, one eye brow raised; most nodded gravely but Banker Reinster spoke up.
"Archbanker, perhaps we can approach Peryarv without involving the Acadamae. We can tell him in no-uncertain terms that we will not allow him to wage war inside Korvosa. Peryarv would not dare attack us for fear of drawing the Acadamae's attention. If Peryarv is truly a good man with pure intent, he will listen to reason and avoid war now. If he is not ... then our men can deal with him immediately."
The Archbanker closed his eyes and sat for a while before continuing.
"Banker Reinster, I fear Peryarv may well be powerful enough to deal with a group of our men and still escape before the Acadamae could arrive. However it would certainly not be within his best interests to do so. Gather a group of volunteers - warn them this is a dangerous mission - and visit with Peryarv. Request his attendance to see me immediately in regards to matters of war and mages. That should be enough to catch his attentions."
"And if he does not wish to come quietly, Archbanker?"
The Archbanker smiled.
"Then bring him in loudly. In our vaults we have magical manacles of binding; if we can slip those upon his wrists he will not be allowed to cast without the captor's permission. In the mean time we will be preparing ourselves here with prayer and spells. If it comes time to fight, we will be ready."
The Archbanker turned to Tain.
"Would you care to be a part of this, Tain? This is a dangerous mission. Your knowledge of Peryarv could prove useful. Do you have any thoughts on what we propose?"
“You are most wise Archbanker, as is Banker Reinster and your collective knowledge of law far surpasses my own – it is not my place to judge. For what it is worth, I think it a fine idea, and I certainly volunteer to go,” speaks Tain in response.
“I believe you are correct Archbanker, in saying that a small band, however devout and backed by law will be hard pressed to take Peryarv by force – if he truly is who he says he is. It is without doubt that he is an arcane spell-caster of no small worth, and he habitually travels with a well trained cadre of bodyguards. There will be no benefit to the city at this time if we lose large numbers in a skirmish on the streets against a powerful mage. I suggest that whatever force we send be large enough to show Peryarv our seriousness, and large enough to defend ourselves should hostilities break out, but not so large as to look like our intent is to take him by force. The exact number wiser heads than I will decide, but I would suggest no fewer than five and no more than ten. Any who go should be strong of will and hardy of body, on the chance that Peryarv does use magic against us.” He pauses, thoughtful for a moment.
“Although I do not trust him entirely, but if it proves that Peryarv is not steeped in evil, and has some respect for law, perhaps we can come to a resolution between us in regards to the Acadamae that will be beneficial to the Bank, Peryarv and the city … still, if it does prove to indeed be Peryarv that was involved in the robbery of one of our banks, I am little inclined to come to an agreement, whatever his reason.”
---
The wagon bounced yet again underneath Tain. He glanced around at the stern faces of the men around him. Banker Reinster and Cleric Sinder bowed heads together, praying and preparing themselves for battle. Two other Clerics held their holy symbols in hand, their eyes looking into far off thoughts. Five other paladins of various ranks worked themselves through their preparations.
All too quickly the wagon arrived before the Ambassador's house. The troop quickly disembarked and formed a loose pattern before the front door where two burly men stood guard. Those men look like the bodyguards at the meeting last night, Tain thought.
Banker Reinster addressed the nearest guard. "Inform Lord Peryarv that Banker Reinster is here on behalf of the Church of Abadar and requesting a meeting immediately." The guard disappeared into the building.
The remaining guard stood proud, chest held out, tunic straining to contain his muscles, steadfastly ignoring the troop as he looked into the distance.
"I don't know if I'd be so calm with ten men staring me down," Paladin Marcon whispered to the man beside him. Tain and Banker Reinster turned their glares from the guard to Paladin Marcon.
"Sorry," he mumbled. A quick frown crossed his youthful face as Banker Reinster's face became even more sour. This time Paladin Marcon nodded and resumed staring at the guard. Paladin Marcon thought he saw the barest hint of a smile touching the guard's lips.
Several minutes later the front door opened. The guard made way for Lord Peryarv to step out. Peryarv was dressed in a finely-cut charcoal suite and mauve shirt, a bright blue hankerchief tucked into his top coat pocket. A smile spread across his skeletal face, bringing even more wrinkles around his eyes and cheeks.
"Banker Reinster," Peryarv announced with glee. "What a pleasure to see you on such a fine morning as this. I do not believe we have met."
Peryarv raised a hand to shake. Banker Reinster eyed it warily, unsure of the wisdom of touching the hand of a wizard he was clearly here to arrest.
"Forgive me, Lord Peryarv, if I do not shake your hand at this stage. The Archbanker would like a word with you in regards to matters of war and mages."
Lord Peryarv looked around at the men of Abadar and settled his gaze on Tain. Peryarv leaned in close to his nearest guard. "The nicest thing about paladins," he said in a stage whisper, "is that they are so damn predictable."
Tain said nothing. Again, he was trying to sense the evil lurking in Peryarv’s soul, but as the night before, he could detect nothing.
Peryarv turned to Banker Reinster again.
"I'm sure you don't mind if my guards follow us to the temple?" It did not sound much like a question.
Banker Reinster nodded. Peryarv held his wrists out in front of him.
"I'm sure you brought binders. I certainly would have in your shoes."
Cleric Sinder stepped forward and shackled Peryarv. Tain could see small sparks as Cleric Sinder mumbled something over the manacles. Peryarv shuddered.
The task done, Sinder returned to stand beside Tain. “I cast detect magic as you suggested Paladin Tain,” he said in a low voice. “The guards wear magical vests and boots, Peryarv wears magical boots, two magical rings and a magical necklace, but nothing that I think will allow him to get out of those binders.”
Banker Reinster gave the order and the men took their places in the back of the wagon along with Peryarv. Tain made sure to sit on the other side of the wagon, where he could keep an eye trained on Peryarv at all times. For the entire trip Peryarv smiled smugly to himself.
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Written by Ollie and Mothman
‘A Matter of Most Importance’ (Part 2)
The 23rd of Calistril
Archbanker Tuttle, along with several Bankers and Clerics, sat waiting behind a large table inside the main meeting chamber. Banker Reinster and Cleric Sinder walked Peryarv forward to seat him at a chair before the large table. Banker Reinsert had requested his men to remove all of Peryarv's clothes and jewelry and changed him into the plain initiate’s robes he now wore. The manacles of binding were still attached.
"Lord Peryarv," said the Archbanker. "Thank you for coming to see us. Your co-operation is greatly appreciated."
Peryarv looked around the room then at each of the temple leaders before him.
"Your man asked me to come down and talk to you." He held up his shackles. "This looks much more like a judgement to me."
"By all accounts you are a powerful wizard, Lord Peryarv. You may even be who you say you are - Grestuv returned to us. But we have grave concerns as to your actions and even graver concerns as to your plans for the future. We have reliable reports that you are planning to go to war with the Acadamae; that you kidnapped and held ransom on one Lady Marcella; and eye-witness reports place you at a bank robbery. You attacked people with magic. And we want to know why you are stock piling scrolls of healing right before a killer disease infects the city. You have been observed to meet with House Arkona.
"Although the crimes you are accused of are certainly worthy of our attention and judgement, we are most concerned with the threat of war. Law and Order are the foundations of our beliefs. We cannot allow you to create war with the Acadamae. Think of the damage that would do to innocent people. To the city itself."
The Archbanker's voice started growing louder and hoarser with each point.
"The threat you pose to all of us is of the highest level. We have called you here politely but have no doubt as to our intentions. Yes we are judging you. Yes we will treat you to the full extent of the law if found guilty. Treason of the highest order, theft, kidnapping. You are in violation of more than twenty different laws of Korvosa just from your declaration of war alone."
The Archbanker's voice stopped just short of yelling.
"Well," said Peryarv. "That's quite the comprehensive list you have there." Peryarv glanced briefly over at Tain. "I can only begin to wonder where you've come up with this." He looked back to the Archbanker.
"Let's get the simple stuff out of the way. Yes I held Lady Marcella for a short period of time." The Archbanker raised his eyes at this. Peryarv raised a hand before the Archbanker could interrupt. "Let me finish please. I did not kidnap Lady Marcella; in fact quite the opposite. Ambassador Amprei and I dine together frequently; we are both Ambassadors and find a certain freedom in talking with another in the same line of work.
"The Ambassador had been worrying over something, his moods darkening every day. I think us good professional friends but this was clearly personal and as such I did not want to rush him. One night, after a little too much wine Amprei confided in me as to his affair with Lady Marcella. Of course I already knew he was having an affair; it was common knowledge in our circles as to Amprei's affections for someone other than his wife. We just didn't know who.
"Amprei this night broke down in tears. The vile wretched scum Gaedren Lamm had kidnapped Lady Marcella and using her as a bartering chip with him. Gaedren asked for more and more of Amprei each time he visited. The last time was too much for him; Gaedren and Amprei had quite the fight. Gaedred insisted Amprei help smuggle in drugs and... other things, using his legal businesses as a front for Gaedren's ever expanding empire.
"Amprei thought his world was coming to an end. His affair was undoubtedly about to become public knowledge back in Cheliax, his lover was missing presumed dead; Gaedren was threatening to destroy everything Amprei had left. Then Gaedren met with an unfortunate end leaving Lady Marcella kidnapped and helpless. The Ambassador was simply beside himself. Once he shared his story with me I could do nothing but help him. Naturally I did not reveal my powers to him; I'd think that even now Amprei knows nothing of my true nature.
"It took a few days but I found Lady Marcella held prisoner in a squalid rundown house outside Korvosa. My guards and I rescued her, and unfortunately she saw me in action. I am not registered with the Acadamae here, for obvious reasons, and no one knew of my powers. Well almost no-one. I couldn't let her retain memories of me casting spells. Once we had rescued her, I changed her memories to exclude me."
"You mean you corrupted her memories? Wiped her mind?" The Archbanker interrupted.
Peryarv winced at the Archbanker's words.
“Corrupted is a bad way to describe it. I merely planted a few - shall we say strong? – suggestions in her mind to allow her to see other than she had really seen. No damage done and no horrid compulsions.”
Peryarv shuddered in his seat.
“Ugh. Compulsions are horrid business, not my cup of tea.”
“So why,” the Archbanker asked, “were you seen meeting with House Arkona if you were rescuing Lady Marcella? Why take her there? We have it on good authority you threatened Lord Arkona that night.”
Peryarv spread his hands open as far as the manacles would allow, a sheepish grin appearing on his face.
“I’m sorry to say my motives may not have been as pure as I would have hoped. Your man over there - ” Peryarv pointed with is chin “- the one casting detect truth on me, will attest to my purity as I say this. I was absolutely concerned with recovering Lady Marcella for Amprei until after rescuing her, and after blocking her memories of me, she threatened ‘If you don’t let me go Lord Arkona will track you down and kill you!’
“You see, Lord Arkona saw through my disguise the second he met me. Claimed he could smell who I really was, if you can believe that. Almost since the day I arrived back here in Korvosa I’ve been paying him hush money. My plans could ill afford to be blown wide open simply because some hack underlord recognised me. But now here was my chance to settle the debt! To stop Lord Arkona from blackmailing me, or so I had hoped.
“So on my way back with Marcella I made a little detour to visit House Arkona. A simple locate spell was enough for me to find him, although I must say that auction house has some superb blocks up around it. Having met various people there over the years when I lived here before, I was relieved to see the safe house was still available. I place Yasmin under guard and went to call upon House Arkona.”
The Archbanker looked over to the Cleric casting Detect Truth. The Cleric nodded once to show Peryarv appeared to be telling the truth so far.
“And then?”
“Not my finest hour. I’ve been an ambassador with Magnimar for some time and I count myself a shrewd negotiator. I tried everything to let Lord Arkona know he would not be blackmailing me anymore. I tried to negotiate the safe return of his family cousin Lady Marcella; he just laughed and said it was of no concern. I threatened to tell her that; he laughed harder and said he wanted to be there when I did. Ultimately I told him – no, warned him – that in short order he’d no longer have the chance to blackmail me. I even, I must confess to my great shame, threatened harm to his cousin, though of course I never would harm her. Nothing worked. Lord Arkona called my bluff.
“I stormed out of the room and warned him that it was over. I turned and saw all those poor people there, standing defeated and selling themselves, their minds, their bodies, their souls to get out of debt. All under House Arkona’s blessing.
“I snapped. I threw what money I had onto the ground, more than enough to settle all those poor wretches debts, and I bought their freedom. I left my men to organise the release of those people and left to take Lady Marcella home.
“I admit I was in a foul mood at this point in time. For twenty years I have planned my return and to have it hang in the balance now! My mood was dark indeed. Returning to the safe house I collected Yasmin and took our leave.”
Peryarv turned to look at Tain. “Right then some people attacked me and at first I thought it was House Arkona’s men come to hurt me. Naturally I defended myself. If I had wanted to kill my attackers, believe you me, they would have been but ash in the wind.”
The Archbanker turned to look at Tain.
“Do you have anything to say to this, Tain?”
Tain has been standing stone faced, looking at Peryarv, but internally his mind has been racing. Has he made a big mistake here? Could Peryarv really be on the side of good?
He starts out of his reverie as the Archbanker addresses him.
“Yes your grace,” he says, inclining his head respectfully. “I am aware of a man who appeared to be Peryarv of Magnimar – although I did not know his name at that time – being in the vicinity of the auction house in the company of Lady Yasmin Marcella on the night in question. As our guest has alluded to, I was one of the people that attacked him – or rather his bodyguards specifically.
“With your permission your grace, may I explain further? My thanks. As you well know, the paladins of our order are allowed some discretion and independence in how they choose to combat lawlessness and act as a force for Good within – and beyond – the jurisdiction of the church. Some choose to quest in the wild parts of the world, defeating evil monsters, spreading civilisation and the word of most lawful Abadar. Others, such as myself, choose to operate within the bounds of civilisation, combating criminals and corruption, and bringing help to those that the authorities cannot assist for reasons good or bad.
“Recently, per my secondment to the Korvosan Guard during the riots, I was assigned to investigate Ambassador Amprei. During the course of said investigation I learnt from Ambassador Amprei that his lover, the Lady Yasmin, had been kidnapped by the late Geadren Lamm. In fact, Amprei asked me, along with several other companions, to try to find and rescue her. I vowed to do so – doing so did not interfere with my official duties, including the investigation of Amprei. My mandate as a Paladin of Abadar and my position at that time as a deputy of the Korvosan Guard allowed me to undertake this investigation, and arrest or use force against any criminals I encountered in the course of it. Given that both the Guard and our own personal were stretched to the limit keeping the city under control, I chose not to divert further official resources in my investigation. I felt it was imperative to find and rescue the lady as soon as possible – Lamm had been dead for several days, and we did not know what conditions she may be enduring.
“My companions, who had also agreed to help find the Lady Yasmin, and I learnt of her location and travelled there with the intention of liberating her. During the course of events I was separated from the rest of my companions, but later observed that man,” Tain points at Peryarv, “and a large band or armed men absconding from the area with Lady Yasmin in their custody. The men bore no official insignias that I could observe, and the Lady appeared to be in some distress.
“One of my companions attempted to stop the group from leaving the area. I challenged the men holding Yasmin to let her go, citing the authority of the church of Abadar. There was no adherence to my demand, so I used all force to stop them.
“Several of my companions did directly attack Peryarv whilst I battled the guards holding the Lady Yasmin. Peryarv used magic to disable or seriously injure them.
“At this point, the fight was broken up by forces loyal to House Arkona. Peryarv was taken into their custody, whilst we left the site with Lady Yasmin, who was most grateful to us for her rescue. I would be most interested to hear how our guest dealt with House Arkona subsequently, given they seemed most displeased with him.”
Tain nods briefly to indicate that he is done, confident that he has reported events truthfully, and that the cleric who is no doubt now monitoring his words will be able to confirm that.
The Archbanker nodded in agreement.
"Indeed Tain speaks wisdom there; I too would like to know what happened with House Arkona after you were taken."
Peryarv grimaced.
"It wasn't pleasant. Lord Arkona thought it hilarious to have me captured so soon after threatening him. Luckily for me Lord Arkona was reluctant to hurt me at first. He kept me locked up for a few days under guard with swords to my neck. His instructions were clear - if I were to even look at the guards funny they were to kill me. I may be a mage but even so there is not much I can do in those circumstances. After some time Lord Arkona came to visit.
"'For being so insolent to me', he said, 'I shall double your payments. But what I want, more than anything else, is to know why you thought this was done. Clearly you felt you had the upper hand.'"
Peryarv's voice dropped quiet and he stared down at the floor. "When I failed to answer him, Lord Arkona showed me his skills with a knife. I've kept my secrets for over 20 years and I am ashamed to say he had me spilling my secrets in no time. I tried lying but he proved quite adept at seeing through those."
Peryarv fell quite for a few moments, regathering his thoughts. "Today I will share that information with you, Archbanker. What I have to say is quite important, highly classified. You may want to think about whom in your group should hear this."
The Archbanker looked around at his people. "They can all be trusted, Lord Peryarv. Continue."
"House Arkona listened to what I had to say. I'll get to that shortly. He was skeptical at first, thinking I was just playing mind games. Finally he decided perhaps I could be believed, in which case it would be better to have me on his side than against. Lord Arkona brought in a priest to heal my wounds. He offered me his help, a business venture if you will, in which I would be his advisor. His leverage, my reason to agree, was simple. I need the help."
"Lord Arkona hurt you - tortured you - and then offered you a business venture? Good Abadar above, what on Golarion could you need help with that desperately?"
Peryarv met the Archbanker's eyes. "Avoiding the end of days."
"End of days, Peryarv?"
"Yes. The end of the world, at least for Korvosa anyway."
The Archbanker laughed. "That's a little melodramatic isn't it? If you are facing such a problem why didn't you go to the court? To any authority? To us?"
Peryarv sighed.
"Let's being then, shall we? I have a lot to talk about here."
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Written by Ollie and Mothman
‘A Matter of Most Importance’ (Part 3)
The 23rd of Calistril
Peryarv continued.
"25 years or so ago an archeologist discovered a set of old tomes in a Shoanti burial ground some miles outside of Korvosa. The tomes were an oddity from the outset - easily 500 years old, written in an unknown hand, and not something the Shoanti would have made. The Acadamae and the Anomanexus College where brought in to consult on the decyphering of the tomes. Toff Ornelos was assigned from the Acadamae. Shoanti culture has always been a hobby of mine, and as head of the Anomanexus College I decided to look into this. Between us our magics could help understand the language but not the things it talked about.
"It was clear the texts were prophecies and at first were laughed off as simple-minded fanatical output of some long-forgotten religion. Until we found what seemed to be references to Field Marshal Korvosa taking hold of Shoanti lands, the founding of the city of Korvosa, the death of Aroden, Kings Eodred, Cardraith, Chadris. the earthquake of 4680.
"There were too many co-incidences to put off the prophetic nature of these works. Amazingly the prophecies continued to hold true after the death of Aroden. Scholars Golarion-wide have reported that prophecies have simply stopped coming true since his death; yet here we had a working example.
"Investigation into the prophecies research had only involved Toff, myself, and a few archeologists, and we - I - made the decision to keep it that way until we had enough information to approach the authorities. We feared what would happen if people learned of these prophecies, even though at the time we didn't know about the future of Korvosa. We were worried how the populous would react, and about people who would seek to use the prophecies to further their own agendas.
"We struggled for years to translate this text. Over time we came to understand the cryptic timings it used and began getting a feel for the timeline. We also came to realise the prophecies were talking about a major upcoming event - death on an unprecedented scale, war, plagues, the rise of the dragon and when it does... the end of days. For several years we toiled but progress was slow. Even today I cannot tell you if the end of days means the death of Korvosa, the death of Golarion, enslavement to a dragon, or what. All we knew for sure was death was coming, and soon.
"We approached Queen Domina in '84 with a plan to save Korvosa. We felt we could not burden the public with the knowledge of upcoming events, and we believed we could divert the prophecies and save Korvosa. It would be expensive and secret; we would need to include many more scholars into our research. We needed somewhere to work in secrecy yet also have reason to move many people in and out without drawing attention. Somewhere to do research, to develop magical items that may help. To create and store a large cache of scrolls to remove disease.
"The Queen was sceptical at first but soon came on-side. It was her idea, bless her soul, for the Great Tower to be built. The Queen had wanted a lasting monument to her time as ruler and realised she could meet both goals. It would be a busy building openly used by Korovsan military and give us the perfect cover to hide our comings and goings. And so it began. I'm sure I don't need to tell you the history of that tower - it damn near bankrupted the city. That was partly because we funneled so much into the prophecies."
The Archbanker raised an eyebrow. "The Great Tower was home to a secret organisation?"
Peryarv shrugged. "We needed somewhere to work, the Queen wanted a monument, it seemed like a great idea.
"Everything was going so well until '86. Our group had grown to include some of the most powerful mages in Korvosa, scholars, and the Queen. In '85 our group had translated a prophecy that described the death of Queen Domina. Naturally we hadn't told her about her own death being foretold. No person should know the date of their own death, even if we could only narrow it down to a year-long window. It also gave us an opportunity to try some of our theories on changing the prophecies and averting disaster."
"But the Queen died in '86."
"Yes. Our theories didn't work. That's when the problems really began in our group. Toff & I had argued for years about the best way to approach the coming disasters. Toff favoured a tightly controlled, military approach to the situation. I thought we should empower people to help them live through the events. With the Queen's death showing our approaches were not working, the divide between us grew.
"When Eodred II took the throne he was very different in attitude than Queen Domina. The Queen had been very hands-on, involved in any way she could, expecting constant updates from us. Eodred II was not interested and wanted to shift responsibility as much as possible. Toff seized on this and, unbeknown to me, captured the King's attentions by suggesting he alone be in charge of the operation.
"Toff's uncle Volshyenek helped with all his power to influence the King. Toff was permitted to form his military-style magic unit inside the Acadamae. Still I didn't see the rift growing wider between us. Eventually the King declared Toff in charge of our investigation, simultaneously declaring the Acadamae would become the only source of magic in Korvosa. The King saw his chance to be rid of the problem, Toff saw his path to fixing the problem, and Volshyenek saw how to strengthen the Acadamae's position.
"Toff lead the attack against the Anomanexus College. Toff came with a troupe of his military mages and told me the King's decision. I resisted. Toff offered me the position of his second-in-command, no doubt an honour in his eyes. Again I resisted. Then Toff attacked, and the battle began. It was brief but intense - an hour is a very long time in magic. Over a hundred mages died or burnt their magic out during that battle, casualties were high on both sides.
"Toff's military unit was well trained and it was clear they would win. I declared surrender. Toff was enraged and refused me my personal surrender."
Peryarv's voice turned cold and his eyes focused into the distance. "He threw everything he had at me. He'd grown so strong so quickly and I hadn't prepared for battle that day. Toff shattered my body and I died."
The Archbanker was taken back. "You died? Did someone resurrect you or heal you?"
"Not just someone; Nethys took pity upon me and intervened with Pharasma on my behalf."
“An event such as that is almost unheard of,” Tain speaks up. “Do you claim that the god of magic has taken a personal interest in events here in Korvosa? And that you are his champion?”
Peryarv shrugged at Tain's question. "Perhaps."
A barely contained chuckle came from one of the Clerics at the table.
"Something funny there, friend?" the Archbanker asked.
"Ah, no Archbanker. Well... sort of. I mean really, brought back to life by the Gods? Champion of Nethys? Next he'll be telling us about his home in the clouds and his flying winged horse!" A few soft laughs at the table.
"Yes, I agree it sounds impossible," said the Archbanker. "But we are men of religion, are we not? Do we not daily preach the blessings of our respective Gods? Do we not tell the stories of the dead being brought back to life? Do I see before men of their faith that pay lip service to the parts they find disagreeable or care not to believe in?"
The cleric bowed his head, his cheeks reddening. "Sorry Archbanker."
The Archbanker turned back to Peryarv. "Tain asks a valid question, Peryarv. Do you claim such a thing?"
Peryarv smiled his sheepish smile again.
"I know my story is highly unbelievable. I understand if you think I am crazy. But it doesn't change what I saw, what I felt, after my death. Am I the champion of Nethys? I do not know. If I am, I think he's doing a terrible job of supporting me in my endeavours - but then again perhaps that's a champion's burden.
"When I was dead I dreamed of standing before Pharasma to be judged. The Lady looked upon me and was about to speak her judgement when Nethys appeared. They didn't seem to say a word to each other, but it felt like it did. I know that doesn't make any sense but that's what I felt. Lady Pharasma was most displeased and I felt myself thrown back to my body. I awoke in agonizing pain, my body wretched and broken, under the tender care of... a close friend.
"It took more than 6 months before I could walk again, many more months before I could live on my own. All this time my friend took great risk keeping me alive and away from prying eyes. During this time I studied teachings of Nethys - I'd never been religious before my death - and learned much of his ways. I came to realise, through my studies and prayers, that Nethys wants magic to be free. Korvosa's constraint of magic is an abomination in the eyes of Nethys.
"I have come to believe - no, I know without doubt - that Nethys has let me live so that I may free magic in Korvosa. I am certain this is part of the prophecies, and sure that I can use this to help save Korvosa."
"Why, then, did you leave Korvosa? For close to 20 years?" asked the Archbanker.
"My magic was... altered... after I came back from death. What was once so familiar became strange, what was once beautiful and graceful awkward and inconvenient. I needed to relearn everything. There was no way I could do that in a city controlled by the Acadamae, not without coming to their attentions.
"My friend helped me leave the city. From Korvosa I travelled to Magnimar, where fate would have it I adopted a new identity - Peryarv Lagren. I rose to become a member of the council, always striving to increase my magic, gathering resources so I could return here. To face Toff and his phony Acadamae, to free our magic. To save Korvosa if I can."
"I don't suppose you'll give us the name of your friend?"
Peryarv shook his head. "Never."
"And the bank robbery?"
"I suspect someone wants to discredit me and get me in trouble with the law. I don't know who that would be. If the Acadamae knew who I was I assure you I'd already be dead."
"And you were buying all the cure disease scrolls because of the prophecies?"
"Yes Archbanker. I have been gradually building up a supply of them over time, though it is an expensive exercise. However the signs became clear that the time is upon us and I needed as many as I could get. I was stock piling them so I could lead a team of people into the Zone and eradicate the disease within. It came as a great shock that two diseases have come to pass; the prophecies only ever referred to the one disease striking."
"You realise it looks to us like you have robbed the bank to fund your activities."
Peryarv shrugged. "Yes. All I can do is show you my estate holdings and how much money I have available. I do not need to rob banks to afford this."
"And what has happened to these scrolls now? Do you realise how much we need those right now?"
"My men are guarding them back at my home. And I will give them to your people to use as you see fit, for I trust you will do your best to eradicate this disease. I think we - you - should investigate what happened to the city's original plan to stockpile scrolls of disease curing. We may have the answer to the problem at our fingertips."
A few minutes passed as the Archbanker took in what Peryarv had been saying.
"You seem very well prepared, Peryarv. If you were really prepared though, surely you would have approached us in person to discuss these matters and plan for the disease? We have had to come and arrest... interview you. Why did you not forewarn us? And why are you revealing everything so openly? I trust not at all the cunnings of a mage. Your supposed openness and honesty just make me more convinced you hide something from us."
"Would you have believed me? Do you even believe me now? You have a man gathering the truth of every word I say yet I can see in your eyes you still struggle to believe it. Tell me, if I had walked in off the street and told you who I was, what would you have done? Are you not bound by the law of the land to hand me to the Acadamae? Are you not now struggling with this dilemma inside yourself?
"And how do I know I can trust you? Or any of you? I've spent the last year gathering information on this city's officials and believe me there is not a lot to trust in this town. I've waited until now to talk with you because it is only now that I am forced to play my hands that I believe I can trust you. Admittedly you came to me, but I was close to coming to you anyway.
"Ultimately I feel the best course of action here is complete honesty. I have opened up and revealed all. There is nothing else I could do in the face of you arresting me. I have, as they say, rolled the dice and must see where they land."
The Archbanker looked around. "Any more questions for Lord Peryarv? If not I suggest we graciously show Lord Peryarv to somewhere he can rest while we discuss these matters."
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Great stuff, once again. Beautifully written, and a great job from your GM for adding so much to the story.
How do you manage to write such extensive dialogs? Are they based purely on your memory, notes or from a recording?
Well, the last three entries I posted were a written exchange between myself and the GM (and Ollie wrote far more of that than I did) that happened between games – I just put it together, edited and posted it.
The other journal entries are based on a combination of my memory, the notes that I usually take in-session (I usually try to jot down some notes on the in-game dialogue as well as the major events – some of the in-character conversations are too good to not use), and artistic license on my part (especially when it comes to turning out of character discussions into in-character dialogue).
Tain’s Journal
The 25th of Calistril
The Blood Veil, as the plague is being called, is continuing to spread throughout the city, with continuing reports of new neighbourhoods being affected, more people dying. Even as early as the afternoon of the 23rd, long lines of sick citizens had begun to form outside the Bank and the city’s other temples – more than our clerics could heal in one day. By now the number of sick have completely overwhelmed the temples’ ability to control the spread of the disease. Every day, the death toll mounts, and it is hard to see what we might do to stem it.
We do our best. The clerics and paladins who are given the power to remove disease have been dedicating all their resources to doing so, though it is not enough, and nearly all our Bank’s store of scrolls, wands and potions that might heal the sick have been used (or reserved by wealthy patrons).
Those of us who cannot heal (like myself) have been working double shifts, trying to keep the temples running, assisting the clerics, and ensuring that peace is kept in the long lines of people waiting for our assistance.
In addition I, with some of my colleagues, have been assisting the Korvosan Guard in maintaining patrols of the streets, trying to ensure that the city does not once again devolve into anarchy. With the temples all so busy, the Guard has been tasked with removing the bodies of the dead, while the guarding of the city gates has been given over to the company of warrior women recently commissioned by Queen Ileosa, the Grey Maidens.
Worrying reports and rumours reach my ears though; that the Guards’ orders are to bring the corpses of the diseased dead not to Grey District, or any of the temples, but to dump them in various secluded alleys around the city; that the Grey Maidens are stopping people in poor areas of the city from getting access to temples for healing; that the Hellknights guarding The Zone in Old Korvosa were attacked by purple cloaked assailants.
Unfortunately my duties have left me little time to investigate these rumours (or sleep). Furthermore, the crisis has left the situation with Peryarv hanging in Limbo. He remains a guest of the Bank, but we have had no resources available to question him further or investigate what truth their might be in his claims.
By necessity I have also neglected my friends and family. There has been no opportunity to visit with Lavinia Delamore or her mother the Baroness, I have seen Agon Deparle only briefly in passing, and have not seen the Merivanchis or been to Brock House. It was only from Agon that I heard of the falling out between Marcus and Mari following their argument after the meeting at the house on Summoning Street – that Mari had moved out of Brock House and is staying at Cambion House. It seems that they are beginning to reconcile … I must visit soon and make sure that no permanent rift is allowed to come between them.
Tain’s Journal
An early start
Early morning, the 26th of Calistril
I had slept for a few hours at the dormitory at the Bank after returning from patrol in the early hours of this morning, before heading over to my apartment at sunrise to launder my clothes, polish my armour and take advantage of a morning off. However, when I reached my apartment door I discovered a note wedged into the door jamb. It was from Agon, and read;
Tain,
I’ve discovered a situation that could further threaten the city. Could use your help. Come to Brock House for breakfast to discuss, bring weapons!!
Agon.
I turned about and headed for Brock House.
It took me longer to get there than I had anticipated, the journey slowed by a cold, dreary rain that slicked the streets, as well as the need to deal with some minor trouble on the way – it seemed that some unscrupulous people were taking advantage of the plague to indulge in looting and acts of vandalism. When I did arrive, it was Agon that opened the door. He was dressed all in dark clothing, a stained weatherproof cloak over his chainmail, and was fully armed.
“Tain,” he greeted me. “You’re late. We were just about to leave. Come, I’ll get you up to speed on the way.” He clapped me on the shoulder and moved past me, squinting up at the grey sky before stepping out into the drizzle.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Fish markets on Warehouse Way South,” he called back over his shoulder. “Need to see a woman about some rats.”
I raised my eyebrows and looked into the hall, where Marcus and Mari stood pulling boots and cloaks on. They wore old clothes and both wore rapiers. I noticed that Mari seemed to be wearing some light armour under her clothing. I watched them closely. There did appear to be an awkward tension between the two, but the fact that they were not fighting – and in fact Mari was here at Brock House – suggested that they had at least begun the process of reconciliation. Mari’s hair was still jet black, making her skin appear pale, but I noticed she walked with a confidence, a practiced grace that I had not previously observed in her.
I greeted them as they stepped out onto the porch, and enquired after Ariadnae. I had briefly spoken to the priestess of Pharasma after Peryarv’s arrest, but had not seen her since then. “Aria and I required some healing at the temple of Pharasma last night,” replied Marcus, looking tired and scratching absently at his arm. As his shirt sleeve lifted I saw the new, pink skin typical of magical healing. “Given the situation with this plague, she needed to call in a few favours. She’s working, said we might not see her for a few days.”
“You’d better update me on what’s been happening,” I said. I looked around and saw Agon waiting impatiently by the gate. “On the way,” I added.