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

[Leif]

Jerrigan Arbordelve

[SBLOCK=Tristan and Jerrigan]
With a nod, the Queen's Handmaiden leads you into the throne room. The tall vaulted room is pristine but mostly empty. Stained glass windows showing former kings and queens let in light from the east, with tapestries covering the opposite wall. Heat comes from an immense fireplace, and a silken carpet leads up to the throne itself, a red and black spidery-looking affair.

Dressed in mourning black, with a delicate veil that doesn't quite hide her sad beauty, Queen Ileosa is sat up the throne.

"Your Majesty, may I present Tristan Fuller and Jerrigan Arbordelve," announces Sabine. In a quieter voice she asks for the brooch, which she takes and presents to the Queen. The Queen's face lights up in a broad smile.

"You may approach," says the Queen. "We thank you for this service you have done to us, and we will award you accordingly. We wish all of our subjects were as brave, as noble and as loyal as you."

Her voice breaks a little and she drops the formal tone, becoming less the imperious ruler and more a sad young woman.

"This brooch was stolen from me some time ago, and truth be told I had not expected to see it again. Thank you for bringing a little light to these dark times."

She stands up.

"I love Korvosa, as did my husband, and it saddens me to see my city torn apart by rioting and disorder. If you so choose, you can do me further great service. Sabina will give you the details, and your reward. If you'll excuse me, I must retire to my personal quarters, my grief has quite drained me."

The Queen steps down from the throne with an elegant swirl of her mourning dress, and looks back with an almost coquettish glance, were it not for the tear-reddened eyes.

"Thank you again for your kindness. I hope that your days of serving the Crown are only just beginning." And with that, she is gone.

Sabina, the Handmaiden, hands over a small silver chest to Tristan. Inside the red velvet lined interior of the chest are 12 gold ingots bearing the seal of Korvosa. Sabina shuts the chest and passes it to Lynn.

"Your reward for finding the brooch," she says. "Regarding the Queen's other offer, I am authorised to offer you a secondment to the Korvosan Guard, as..." she searches for the word, "special agents. It is a chance to restore stability to the city and, perhaps, to help make it something greater. You will have considerable autonomy in your actions, you will help the Queen, and it will prove financially favourable for you. What do you say?"

OOC: The ingots are trade bars worth 100 gp each. The chest looks worth a bit too. Feel free to interject comments if you wish.
[/SBLOCK]

[sblock=Jerrigan's answer]Jerrigan's frame straightens as he makes an effort to look as doughty and worthy as this treatment has made him feel. To Sabina, he says, "Milady Sabina, it would be our distinct honor and great privilege to accept Her Majesty's gracious and kind offer. But we also have another companion who could not be with us today because other urgent business required her to be elsewhere. But we would be remiss if we allowed her to be overlooked. Tristan, what say you?"[/sblock]

 

[rpgramen]

[sblock=Crispin]
Khadmeade fold his arms.

"Ah've no heard of your 'friend', boy," replies the dwarf with emphasis. "And if she were investigatin' Lamm all ah can say is she dinnae do a good job of preventin' murder and kidnap oan several accounts ah know aboot. If it's a Thrune ye want ye'd be best askin' up in the Heights where the nobles live. Ah cannae help ye more, even if ah had a mind tae. Ah ain't from this city and ah'm leavin' soon." He glances up and down Crispin. "Too many jumped-up pansy-boys fae mah likin'," he says.
[/sblock]

What a frivilous waste of time. Crispin's pursuit of the dwarven cleric seemed entirely futile, as the inferior little man didn't nearly live up to the hype he'd received from the rumors. Not like the Chelish sophisticate could've expected much else anyway.

"Hrm. Fine." Crispin harps in response, his voice still as condescending as ever despite the lack-luster dwarven insult. Loosing his leather-clad hand from the elaborately decorated hilt of his sword, Jeggare ponders for a few seconds as to how best to pursue this new lead. Should he rough up some ruffians in the most high-class drinking establishment? Perhaps it would be more prudent to check with the upper-class colleges -- presuming this bumpkin-ridden town had any in the first place -- for scholars or theologians, as they all shared the same background, albeit the Korvosan's did so on a less competent caliber. No, no... it would be more wise to simply milk the insufferable dwarf for all the information he had.

"Since you petitioned the idea, mosgrim, who would you recommend I speak with?" Crispin bit back with an odd acclimation of non-chalantness and de rigueur, idly reveling in the battle of insults between himself and the quasi-useless cleric. It was a refreshing experience that the young scion had missed since he had begun his travels, the lack of forums and symposiums the main culprit behind such boredom.

 

[kinem]

ooc: Are the spoiler blocks necessary?

[sblock=Jerrigan's answer]Jerrigan's frame straightens as he makes an effort to look as doughty and worthy as this treatment has made him feel. To Sabina, he says, "Milady Sabina, it would be our distinct honor and great privilege to accept Her Majesty's gracious and kind offer. But we also have another companion who could not be with us today because other urgent business required her to be elsewhere. But we would be remiss if we allowed her to be overlooked. Tristan, what say you?"[/sblock]

[sblock=Tristan's answer]
Tristan looks at Jerrigan in surprise and disapproval. Our honor? He considers.

"My impulsive friend does not speak for me ... but he is correct. I too will accept, m'lady.

And I agree that asking our friend might be appropriate, but she may have other plans for her life. I request that we be allowed to ask her. If she is interested, we will bring her to meet whoever is appropriate; if not, I would respect her privacy and she need not come to any unusual attention."[/sblock]

 

[Leif]

Jerrigan Arbordelve

[sblock=kinem]I was just following Dr. Simon's lead with the spoiler blocks [/sblock]

[sblock=Jerrigan speaks again]Jerrigan says, "I said our honor because milady has seen fit to extend the honor to me as well, but, truth be known, Lady, I actually had no part in the acts for which you so graciously bestowed your honor. And I agree with what Tristan has said about the matter."[/sblock]

 

[Dr Simon]

Tristan and Jerrigan

Sabina gives a small, polite, smile that nevertheless seems to make her face radiant.

"By all means discuss this with your friend. If she played a part in retrieving the Queen's property she is equally to be honoured." She hands a scroll to Tristan. "When you have decided, take this to Field Marshal Cressida Kroft at Citadel Volshyenek. She'll give you any further instructions." Sabina gives you a small nod of a bow. "Good day to you, gentlemen."

 

[Dr Simon]

Crispin

Khadmeade scratches his beard.

"Hmm...," he muses, then at the top of his lungs bellows "Kester!"

The meaning of this outburst shortly becomes evident, clearly the name of the young teenage boy who come running.

"What you want, boss?" asks the boy.

"This gentleman is lookin' fer a friend o' his, laddie," says the dwarf. "Pathfinder by the name o' Malacia Thrune, Chelish lass wi' broon hair. She was investigatin' Lamm, did ye see her when ye were working' for him?"

Kester ponders. "Giggles done in some Chelish bird, she had one of them funny compasses. We fenced it with old Harmsworth, he reckoned it was one of them Pathfinder ones."

"It would seem that yer friend was another o' Lamm's victims," says Khadmeade. "I'm sorry to gie ye tha' news. This 'Giggles' were a brute o' a half-orc worked fae Lamm, he's currently in Citadel Volshyenek waitin' fae trial. Maybe if ye slipped a few coin to Field Marshal Kroft she's let ye torture him a bit, ay?"

Kester looks aggrieved. "You wouldn't let me have a go at Hookshanks, and he killed my brother."

"Wheesht laddie," says Khadmeade. "This young fella know's I'm only jokin'". He looks sternly at Crispin. "Doesn't he?"

"Zanderholm," says Kester. "Zenobia Zanderholm. That's who the woman was working for. She's the Hanging Judge, maybe she could tell you more."

 

[Leif]

Jerrigan Arbordelve

After Sabina leaves them, Jerrigan turns to Tristan and says, "Do any of us know this Field Marshall Cressida Kroft? Does someone at least know how to get to Citadel Volshyenek?"

 

[rpgramen]

Khadmeade scratches his beard.

"Hmm...," he muses, then at the top of his lungs bellows "Kester!"

The meaning of this outburst shortly becomes evident, clearly the name of the young teenage boy who come running.

"What you want, boss?" asks the boy.

"This gentleman is lookin' fer a friend o' his, laddie," says the dwarf. "Pathfinder by the name o' Malacia Thrune, Chelish lass wi' broon hair. She was investigatin' Lamm, did ye see her when ye were working' for him?"

Kester ponders. "Giggles done in some Chelish bird, she had one of them funny compasses. We fenced it with old Harmsworth, he reckoned it was one of them Pathfinder ones."

"It would seem that yer friend was another o' Lamm's victims," says Khadmeade. "I'm sorry to gie ye tha' news. This 'Giggles' were a brute o' a half-orc worked fae Lamm, he's currently in Citadel Volshyenek waitin' fae trial. Maybe if ye slipped a few coin to Field Marshal Kroft she's let ye torture him a bit, ay?"

Kester looks aggrieved. "You wouldn't let me have a go at Hookshanks, and he killed my brother."

"Wheesht laddie," says Khadmeade. "This young fella know's I'm only jokin'". He looks sternly at Crispin. "Doesn't he?"

"Zanderholm," says Kester. "Zenobia Zanderholm. That's who the woman was working for. She's the Hanging Judge, maybe she could tell you more."

"Yes. Joking. Very clever of you." Crispin bemoaned, stagnant in his disposition to relinquish mirth for the moot services rendered and biting back against his ignoble emotions. He'd half-expected this, really, but the plain and simple truth always cuts deep. Now that Malacia's fate had been determined, there were only three remaining ventures left to be dealt with: the reclimation of Malacia's worldly goods so as to return them to her family, closure of her businesses and endeavors left on the Prime, and the more extreme task of ripping this "Giggles" fellow a new extradimensional space in order to cram his lavish walking boot so far up it, he'd kick some poor Gith on the Astral Plane -- this, of course, was just foreplay for what would be the main source of entertainment, Crispin clearly of the belief that a hanging was far too good for the inbred orc-swine. Sadly, such was not his place, and killing the oaf would be far below his own status; the Law was in control now. Perhaps at a later date an "inquisition" of the more famous Chelish variety would be performed, but for now, Jeggare had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Where can I find Zanderholm, Cleric?" demands the scion, lack-luster and devoid of enough energy to cleverly insult the divine half-wit any more, his voice even faultering slightly from its typical self-centric and condescending tone to one of a more generic variety.

 

[kinem]

Tristan replies "We can ask around, no doubt. Let's go."

It is only after the pair has left the Castle that Tristan looks around, making sure no one else is within earshot, and again addresses Jerrigan.

"Look, I know you mean well. But you had no right to presume to speak for me. Never again accept a job on another man's behalf.

But that's not what worries me now. The Queen is too emotional. Mourning is to be expected, but she has a city to run. I can well believe that she might fall for a man who would make a bad King. She may marry for true love, but that doesn't mean he will know the first thing about economics or management.

You understand, I hope, Jerrigan, that you are not to breathe a word of this. If you do, I may end up excuted for treason, but I will take a page from Zellara's book if you know what I mean.

The offer to hire us as agents of the City Guard troubles me most. Because they don't know us at all. They have no way to know that we didn't steal the brooch. We didn't tell anyone at the castle the story.

That tells me that the Guard is probably filled with incompetants and criminals. And that is why I accepted the job. Because this way, at least there will be a few Guardsmen who are honest. Us. At least this way an ordinary citizen has some chance of justice."

 

[Leif]

Jerrigan Arbordelve

Jerrigan blushes all the way back to his ears. "I did do that, didn't I? Please forgive me Tristan, I guess I took momentary leave of my senses. It won't happen again. And everything that you say about the situation has the ring of truth to it. I shall follow your lead in this matter from now on!" [OOC: Like it or not! ]