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

[Dr Simon]

Curse of the Crimson Throne
Edge of Anarchy
Beta Group
(Ambrus, Neurotic, Mowgli and Holyman)
(Formerly Oni and Valthosian)​

[SBLOCK=Thorson]
Another morning in Korvosa, the day after another night’s fruitless search for Gaedran Lamm. The snake had ways of covering his tracks, that was for sure. Rorthin is waiting for him in the smithy.
“You’re late,” says the dwarf, but not unkindly. “Put your apron on and get the forge going.”
Thorson takes his leather apron off the hook and ties it on. Reaching into the pocket on the front he finds something. A card from a Harrow deck, that the Varisian women use to tell fortunes. This one bears the image of The Bear. Turning it in his big calloused fingers, Thorson discovers a handwritten note 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=Lynn]
It was a sunny day in Korvosa, but Lynn barely noticed. She had drifted through the crowded streets like a ghost, un-noticed, empty of purpose except for one thing – to find Lamm. Finding herself on the banks of the Jaggare, near a quiet landing stage, she sits down on a piling and takes out her journal. Writing her thoughts sometimes helps clear her head.
She pauses. There is a new bookmark. Not one she can remember placing there. Taking it out she finds it is a Harrow card, one used by Varisian fortune tellers. This one represents The Unicorn. Strange. Flipping the card in her delicate fingers she finds further mysteries. A handwritten message on the back reads:

“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=D’Jahn]
The sun sparkles on the surface of the Jaggare River and gulls wheel overhead. A gentle sea breeze almost takes away the stink of the city. But neither sun, river, gulls nor breeze can tell D’Jahn what he is. The strange little creature is drawn back from his reverie by a twinge of pain from his shoulder, a legacy of that horrible Gaedren Lamm. D’Jahn puts a hand up to soothe the pain away, and touches something tucked inside his hood. A Harrow card, the type used by Varisian women to tell the future. This one depicts The Mountain Man. D’Jhan looks about him, but there is no-one nearby who could have placed it on his person. Flipping it over in small clever fingers, he finds a handwritten note 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=Edmond]
Escort duty is done for now. Edmond finds himself free for the time being, to pursue his own interests. Which at this particular moment means practising with his guisarme. He has heard of a great weapons master who lives in Korvosa, by the name of Orsini. Perhaps today he will try to find him, or perhaps look up old teachers at the temple. He takes out his whetstone to hone the blade of Deathwail and as he does so, something flutters from his pouch. A Harrow card, of the kind used by Varisian women to read the future. This one represents The Big Sky. Turning it over, he finds a handwritten note 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]

 

[Neurotic]

Edmond Deathbane

Strange.

Ha, I always knew I'll get to him eventually. I expected that he will find me after I start taking Little Lams to the temple, but this works too.

Payback time soon, you bas***d.

Deep in thought, he starts honing his already razor sharp blade.

 

[Valthosian]

Thorson

Without saying anything, Thorson's shoulders square up and his nostrils flare, he stokes the forge flames with a mighty heave and Rorthim sharply reminds him to keep the heat steady. Within his heroic frame, his thoughts are racing.

Finally, I've been searching for so long that I'd been ready to just start killing anyone that might be his in order to get to him, now there's a lead, and I'm going to take it slow and careful, and when I find him, I'll make sure that I take my hogshead of flesh.

After work, Thorson returns to his kip and retrieves his weaponry and kit, shortly before sunset, he walks to what he assumes to be the fortuneteller's abode.

 

[Oni]

A puzzled frown passed over Lynn's face. Now where did you come from?

She tried to think of when someone might have slipped the card into her journal. It's not like she was careless with it, in fact protective would be a better description. Lynn didn't like the idea that someone had been in her belongings.

Turning to the big black bird hopping around nearby.

You didn't see anyone in my stuff, did you Ed?

The bird hopped in a circle and then stopped.

Nope, nope!

You are really helpful, you know that?

Helpful, helpful! Edward always helpful!

Lynn rolled her eyes, and turned her attention back to the Harrow card in her hand. She read the message a few more times and her mood brightened. Mysteries and issues of personal invasion aside, this was certainly more of a lead that she had had up til now. Lynn certainly wasn't going to pass it up. Things would be right again soon enough, she just knew it.

Flipping the card over once more, she gently ran her finger over the image there and wondered if it had any particular significance. Lynn tried to remember what little she knew of Harrow.

 

[Ambrus]

The diminutive Dj'hân studied the oversized card in both small hands while playfully kicking his feet off the edge of the dock. He often kept interesting trinkets beneath his cap and so wasn't certain whether he'd put it there earlier or if it had suddenly appeared on its own. It held a relevant message for him however, possibly several. The halfling boy studied the lined face of the Mountain Man on the card for some time. Was it he who'd given him the card? If so, when? If he'd put the card in his cap as a reminder to visit a friend, had the indicated time already long since past? That notion upset the halfling boy, almost as much as the uncertainty of how long the card had been in his possession. Minutes? Days? Months? Time could be so elusive sometimes...

Returning the red cap to his head, Dj'hân stood and hugged the Harrow card to his small chest. Best to keep the card in hand lest he forget it again. Gaedran; the name on the card back. That name the urchin hadn't forgotten, though it seemed a lifetime ago since he'd last thought of the cruel man to whom it belonged. Now he remembered – he'd once sworn to seek revenge against that pitiless taskmaster. Was he still alive? Dj'hân couldn't recall a joyful moment in which he'd heard about the man's death so he had to assume so. Perhaps it wasn't yet too late for revenge. Maybe he hadn't missed the rendezvous indicated on the card either. That thought dimpled the boy's rosy cheeks.

Fearful of being waylaid by the fog of time once more, the diminutive halfling boy took off at a run towards Lancet street; a warm southern wind blowing at his back.

 

[Dr Simon]

Number Three, Lancet Street, Korvosa, Sunset.

Four figures converge on the address, an unassuming ground floor tenement wedged between others like it. Street traffic is light, candlelight shines out from the small grimy window of 3 Lancet Street.

Each of you sizes up the other three as it becomes obvious that you are all heading for the same place. Are these also people wronged by Lamm, following a strange message on a Harrow card? Or is this a set-up of some sort?

At first glance, the four figures are:

A gaunt human male carrying a pole-arm, perhaps some kind of guard or mercenary.
A burly half-orc.
A slender woman with a raven perched on her shoulder, perhaps an elf, maybe half-elf.
A small figure in a jaunty red cap, seeming at first to be a halfling or gnome child.

[SBLOCK="Ambrus and Neurotic"]
Since both of your characters have been one of Lamm's Lambs in the past, it is possible that you may recognise each other from those days - the 'halfling child' and the 'gaunt man'. Or perhaps your times didn't overlap. I leave it to you.

Ambrus - will get back to you about the Harrow card later
[/SBLOCK]

 

[Valthosian]

The burly half-orc clumps down the cobblestone road noisily, his scale mail rustling and jingling with every step. His obvious lack of enthusiasm for more stealthy pursuits is reflected by the haft of the massive greataxe that perches over his shoulder, like a raptor waiting to be stroked, and perhaps, launched at its target.

His features are predominantly human, although some legacy of the orcish blood within him shows through with the small ivory white tusks and pointed ears. His skin is only vaguely casted with green but his eyes glitter in a fashion that is in no way human. His hair, long and dark is bound back in a pony tail, small scars mark most visible areas of his skin, and his kit is dotted with small symbols, each of them a superstitious warding or request for supernatural aid in battle.

The half-orcs head juts forward, as if pulling the rest of his body behind it through sheer force of determination, his shoulders are raised high and tight as if with barely suppressed tension, and his whole demeanor screams of barely suppressed rage.

Thorson grins toothily although it's clear that the smile doesn't even touch his eyes. He draws the harrow card out of his pocket and flips it to the ground where it lands, clearly visible to the other three adventurers.

It doesn't seem likely that this is a coincidence. Four people as obviously different as we are, showing up at the same door at the same time. If my wits haven't left me completely, I might be starting to think that when I draw and quarter Gaedron Lamm, I'll only get one quarter to play with.

The half-orc's eyebrow arches high as he surveys the people he supposes will become his partners in vengeance.

But when you all are done getting what you want out of your pieces of him, I'll be happy to take what's left and suck the marrow from his bones.

 

[Ambrus]

A halfling boy, roughly ten or twelve years of age and barely knee high to a human, arrives on the scene at a jog only to slow and approach uncertainly upon spotting the others.

The bedraggled guttersnipe has large blue expressive eyes and tousled russet hair covered by a floppy red cap. Although smooth and unlined, the halfling's face is smudged with dirt and grime. His oversized linen tunic is a dirty off-white, and his loose drably-colored breeches are patched at the knees. In addition, the street urchin has a leather jerkin, light slippers, a cloth belt, fingerless woolen gloves and appears unarmed. In his left hand he carries an oversized Harrow card. Being familiar with Gaedron, the obvious assumption is that the guttersnipe is, or at least was, a part of the urchin gang known as Lamm's Lambs.

The small halfling boy looks around at the others with wide uncertain eyes. He takes the large human-sized playing card in both hands to compare the address written upon its back with the number displayed next to the door as if to confirm that he's in the right spot. Satisfied that he hasn't made some error, he anxiously hugs the card to his chest while listening to the vengeful half-orc describes his intentions. The boy swallows nervously when the man describes sucking Gaedron's marrow.

For the moment the lad remains silent while shifting his weight nervously, uncertain of how to respond.
[sblock=Dr Simon & Neurotic]OOC: I have no problem with our characters being both ex-members of Lamm's Lambs. I rather like the idea actually.[sblock=If Neurotic is amenable]Being somewhat ageless by human standards, I imagine that Dj'hân was already in the gang when Edmond was recruited. Being so small and unassuming, his role within the group was most often that of stealthy lookout or courier. When the situation called for it though, Gaedron would use the halfling boy's small size to have him squeeze through tight spaces, often to gain access to a joint he wanted burgled. Gaedron landed a big score once with such a ploy; having Dj'hân gain access to a location by having him delivered to the place in a small parcel beforehand.

Having spent some time in the gang, Edmond would likely have seen curiosity and later suspicion develop amidst the group when the halfling boy seemingly failed to grow up. Dj'hân's time in the Lambs came to an abrupt end when he inadvertently triggered a pilfered wand, enraging Gaedron into a fit of violence. The gang leader began beating the boy mercilessly. Dj'hân only managed to survive because an oddly hot and desiccating blast of wind struck the man, giving the boy a few moments to flee the surprised group of urchins and their leader.

That was several years ago and, seeing Dj'hân today, Edmon can clearly see that the boy appears to not have grown any older. Dj'hân for his part, wouldn't likely recognize the man that Edmond has become.

Let me know what you both think of this.[/sblock][/sblock]

 

[Dr Simon]

OOC: Ambrus, I'm happy with this background, fits in nicely.

 

[Neurotic]

Recognition

OOC: I don't mind, it is good story, except halfling should be able to recognize human ex-Lamm. It is only several years and he should be still recognizable (it's not as if he lost or gained much weight and he already has clue that all this people are connected to Lamm)