Dr. Si's Curse of the Crimson Throne - Alpha Group

[Dr Simon]

Curse of the Crimson Throne
Edge of Anarchy
Alpha Group

(Shayuri, Kinem, Lief, Walking Dad)
(Formerly: airwalkrr, rpgramen)
​

[SBLOCK=Khadmeade]
Khadmeade had been stomping the streets of Korvosa all morning and was no further to finding this "Gaedren Lamm" whom was his prime suspect for having taken Roin. The man was slippery at covering his tracks, if he even existed in the first place. It was high time for a lunch-time ale and so the dwarf called at one of the better taverns that he knew. As he wwas raising his first tankard, Khadmeade noticed a card stuck to the bottom. A card from a Harrow deck, that the Varisian women use to tell fortunes and others use for gambling. This one was of the Winged Serpent. Assuming at first that it was probably left by some late night gambler, Khadmeade then noticed that the card bore writing on the reverse.

“I know what Gaedran has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must meet his fate, and justice must be done.”
[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Bael]
Despite all that had happened, there was still duty. Theresa would probably not thank him if Bael lost his job at the Acadamae because he was spending every other waking moment hunting her killer. And duty meant occupying the mind on other things for a while. But none of this helped, especially when duty ended.

Bael enters the armoury, the other tiefling pay him little attention, the next guard shift coming in to take over for the late afternoon spot. He swaps his guard uniform for his civilian clothes and changes official weaponry for personal gear. As he does so, something flutters out of his belongings. A Harrow card, of the kind Varisian women use to tell fortunes.
This one represents the Locksmith. Picking it up, Bael notices writing on the reverse.

“I know what Gaedran has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must meet his fate, and justice must be done.”
[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Maya]
To be Shoanti in Korvosa is to be treated with equal parts scorn, fear and curiosity. Such things have become every day to Maya, but it still makes daily life difficult when everyone else assumes that you are going to kill them and loot their corpse. The fear part has helped somewhat in tracking down a name for the kidnapper - Gaedren Lamm - but not his whereabouts. Either the people fear him more than an angry Shoanti, or he is very good at covering his tracks. Maya pauses, watching the midday sun sparkle on the Jaggare River as she idly fingers the medicine bundles that she carries. Here strange powers do not seem to need them, but a cultural attachment means that she carries a pouch of strange items.
It feels different. Checking the pouch, Maya discovers a card inside - a Harrow card of the kind used by Varisian women to tell fortunes. This one bears the image of The Twin on the front, and on the reverse, a message.

“I know what Gaedran has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must meet his fate, and justice must be done.”
[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Tristan]
Tristan sits in his student room in the Acadamae, looking out over the rooves and Shingles of Korvosa. On the desk in front of him, his spellbook lies open and unread. His thoughts keep coming back to his sister, and the man he suspects of murdering her for a simple ring. A man that Tristan's magic is no use in finding. The pages of the spellbook contain eldritch secrets to control the powers of the universe, but they can't give him Gaedren Lamm's location.

Sighing, Tristan turns the page, and finds tucked inside the book a Harrow card, of the kind used by Varisian fortune tellers. This one bears an expertly painted image of the Foreign Trader. On the reverse is written a message.

“I know what Gaedran has done to you. He has wronged me as well. I know where he dwells yet cannot strike at him. Come to my home at 3 Lancet Street at sunset. Others like you will be there. Gaedren must meet his fate, and justice must be done.”
[/SBLOCK]

Attached map of Korvosa:

 

[airwalkrr]

Khadmeade's jaw hangs open for a moment. He then forcefully slams the mug down on the table. "Well, it's about damned time someone knew somethin'!"

A moment of dawning comprehension spreads across his face as he realizes all eyes in the tavern are now upon him. Thinking quickly he adds, "...about makin' a good ale. I was gettin' a wee bit tired of this watered down stuff ye humans call a beverage. It's high time someone demonstrated some smarts aboot brewin'. My compliments to ye and yer brewmaster!" he says to the barkeeper. He then quickly pays his tab, discreetly pockets the card, and leaves.

Sunset cannot come quickly enough. Khadmeade must have circled Lancet Street a dozen times by the time he feels it is dark enough to venture to the address. As he has done a hundred times already today, he examines his beard braids for any stray hairs hoping to make a good first impression. He then steps up to the door and knocks.

 

[kinem]

What the hell - in my spellbook no less? Tristan wonders who could have placed the card. It must have been Bael who put it there. Maybe Gaedran made more enemies than I thought.

Nervously he paced back and forth, any pretense of study gone for the rest of the day.

It is almost a relief when evening comes and he heads to Lancet Street, glaive in hand - ready for business in case that is planned for tonight. He turns the corner and sees a dwarf in front of the address.

 

[Walking Dad]

Bael looks at his fellow guards. Could one of them...? ... not likely!
Hm, the Locksmith. I should risk a look. Perhaps I should inform Tristan.
... No, better see the person first. On the other hand, he my be invited, too!

Bael dresses his studded leather armor, grabs his weapons and is on his way, stopping only shortly to take a cloak eith a cowl with him to mask his heritage to a casual viewer.

[sblock=ooc]
[sblock=Image]

[/sblock]
Without the cloak. I will rework it a bit later.

[/sblock]

 

[Shayuri]

Maya traced the tip of a sharp fingernail around the writing on the card. She'd never paid attention to Harrow cards. They were the frivolous games of a frivolous culture. She'd already checked her belongings, and found nothing missing. That was good. The Varisian who's deft fingers had secreted this in her possessions wanted her as an ally.

As it happened, she was prepared to admit that she could use some. Even Varisian.

She stood up and gathered her things. Maya was a tall woman, slender but muscular. Her face was pretty, with strong Shoanti features, but because she kept it carefully shaved and had a tribal tattoo running from her scalp down the right side of her face to her shoulder, her good looks were mostly appreciated by her own people. And that was fine with her.

Maya pulled her cloak on. When traveling alone, she found it helped to conceal herself a bit. A lone Shoanti sometimes got trouble, especially a young woman. With the strange spirit powers that burned in her, she was equal to that trouble...but right now she had more important things to do. Besides, the last thing she needed was to get on the wrong side of the watch just as she seemed close to reaching her goal.

With these thoughts in mind, Maya set out to that address, daring to hope again that she would find the child, and that justice would be meted.

 

[Dr Simon]

Khadmeade knocks on the door of 3 Lancet Street - a tiny terraced house wedged between others of its ilk, with lath and plaster that has seen better days. There is no answer.

The dwarf notices other figures converging on the address. First to arrive is a male human carrying a pole-arm. Next is a cloaked figure, a glimpse of red skin just visible beneath the cowl. Finally, a tall Shoanti woman. She too seems to be concealing herself within a cloak.

[SBLOCK=OOC]
Okay, so nows the chance for descriptions and introductions. Bael and Tristan would recognise each other.
[/SBLOCK]

 

[kinem]

The young human man - dark haired, somewhat muscular, carrying the big weapon but wearing no visible armor - scans the others.

Good evening. I am Tristan. Bael, did you arrange this little party?

 

[airwalkrr]

A stocky dwarf clad in scale mail stands at the door. He has a wooden shield strapped to his back and a warhammer hanging by his side. Around his neck is a carved wooden charm made to look like a forge. His black beard is very well-groomed, being brushed throughout and braided in several places, and his pate is balding in the front just a bit. His nose is large and pointy and his eyebrows are bushy and dark. His face is dour and serious as he looks over the lot of you.

"So then, out with it. Did one of ye call this meeting? Nae, I think not. Ye don't look like the Harrow dealin' type. So how's it we all arrive at the same address at the same time? The one who called me here said somethin' aboot getting evens with Gaedren Lamm. Might ye be wantin' te crush 'is skull in as well? E's taken me nephew he has. And it'll be a cold day in 'Ell before I allow him to get away with it."

 

[Walking Dad]

The young human man - dark haired, somewhat muscular, carrying the big weapon but wearing no visible armor - scans the others.

Good evening. I am Tristan. Bael, did you arrange this little party?

"Evening. I'm Bael. No Tristan, the dwarf is right. But I thought I would probably meet you here, too." The cloaked man with the slightly reddish skin answers Tristan. He seems to carry a light backpack below his cloak and on second look, you can discern a rapier.

 

[airwalkrr]

"Bael and Tristan is it," the dwarf says, giving the tiefling a particularly discerning eye, "Well, I'm Khadmeade. Though under these circumstances I cannae say it be much of a pleasure. And who might ye be?" he asks the Shoanti woman.