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

[Dr Simon]

OOC: Oops, got my references confused. For some reason I was thinking D'Jhan was studying the card and it was in fact Lynn. Ambrus, ignore what I said above about getting back to you about the card.

Neurotic - true, but Ambrus' character is not going to be noted for his ability to pay attention to things, I think!

[SBLOCK=Oni]
Lynn studies the Harrow card. Though the deck doesn't have a place in true magic, such things have resonance and so it's always worth knowing a bit about them. As far as she can remember, the supposed meaning of a card depends on how it is laid out. The Unicorn could mean "What you seek is yours". But it could also mean "Friends are not trustworthy".
[/SBLOCK]

 

[Oni]

Lynn's steps slowed as she drew near. The card had said there would be others, but she had not given much thought to what they might be like. Before she could dwell on that the savage looking half-orc spoke, flipping a card to the ground. Lynn felt the hatred dripping from his words and wondered what had been done to this man. She was shaken, but willed herself not to show it.

Glancing around at the others it was clear that Lamm had crossed a wide variety of people, from the innocent to the very very frightening. Seeing the halfling child was also carrying a card she reached into the pouch at her belt and produced the one that had snuck into her own belongings Holding it up between two fingers, she addressed the half-orc.

Yes, it would seem that we have all received the same summons. It is most curious.

She tapped the card gently against her chin for a moment as she reflected on that. Then seemingly the thought was discarded and she turned to the dirty little ragamuffin of a halfling boy. For a split second a shadow passed over her face at the sad thought of a child being wrapped up in this awful business, she was sure there would be unpleasentness to come if the large fellow was any indication. But seeing his nervousness Lynn smiled warmly and bent down.

My name is Lynn, and this is Edward.

As she pointed to the raven it nodded sharply to the boy almost as if it understood.

What is your name?

 

[Ambrus]

The halfling urchin raises the Harrow card he's been hugging to cover the tip of his nose as the half-elven maid approaches. The boy cautiously studies the woman across the card top as she crouches down to his level. While she speaks, his large blue eyes flicker momentarily over to the blackbird's bobbing head before settling on Lynn once more.

Lowering the card, the boy's cheeks suddenly dimple as a beaming cherubic smile spreads across his face. Lynn is easily the most beautiful thing the urchin has ever seen. Like a fairytale princess in one of those stories the minstrels sing about sometimes, he thinks to himself. Fearlessly taking a half-step closer, the guttersnipe innocently places a tiny hand on Lynn's bent knee. "Dj'hân..." A gentle spring breeze sweeps across the half-elven maid. "You're pretty. I like you."

Looking up at Edward once more, Dj'hân raises his hand towards the raven but timidly stops short of touching him. He looks inquiringly at Lynn. "Can I pet him?"

OOC: If anyone is wondering, Dj'hân pronounces his name as "JAHN".

 

[Oni]

What a wonderful mix of innocence and directness children possessed thought Lynn with only a slight blush.

Well it is certainly a pleasure to meet someone as sweet as you Dj'hân.

Go ahead, Ed likes attention.

The big black bird bobbed its head again as if to punctuate this statement.

Lynn glanced at the door of 3 Lancet Street and then looked up questioningly at the two rough and tumble men who stood nearby.

 

[Valthosian]

Thorson nods slightly to Lynn, acknowledging the question, spares a glance for the so far uncommunicative human fighter, walks over to the door, and raps his knuckles loudly against it.

Thorson Berith, and others who received your little note would like a word with you.

Not wasting any time, the half-orc tries to open the door.

 

[Ambrus]

Clearly fascinated by Ed, the small halfling boy rises up on the tips of his toes to reach the bird perched on Lynn's shoulder. A breeze lightly ruffles the raven's feathers as the boy tentatively strokes the inky black ruff along Ed's neck and chest. Dj'hân pulls his tiny hand back to cover his mouth as he giggles with delight at the contact. The urchin falls back onto his heels and pulls his forgotten Harrow card behind his back as he happily rocks his slight shoulders from side to side. "Hi Ed."

 

[Neurotic]

Edmond Deathwish

My name is Edmond. You wouldn't be same boy who wouldn't grow up in Little Lamms some three or four years ago, would you Dj'ahn?

Let's get this over with !

In years of learning how to fight effectively, Edmond learned about all manners of creatures and he looks at Dj'ahn for a few moments thinking how strange for halfling not to grow up.

He must be something different.

[sblock=For DM]
Knowledge rolls depending on exact nature of the fae dragonblood.
Knowledge (Arcana); Knowledge (Nature) (1d20+6=25, 1d20+1=5)

I'd say I passed with flying colors if he is magical creature
[/sblock]

 

[Dr Simon]

Thorson opens the door to Number Three whilst the others continue to talk behind him.

Beyond is a small front room with a curtained doorway leading further back into the building. The room is furnished in simple fashion, with a small table in the centre. A single chair stands on the far side, with four set up on the near side of the room. Wall hangings depicting strange eldritch figures adorn the walls, and light comes from a couple of candle-holders shaped like winged elves. The candles also give forth a rich scent of flowers and spice.

On top of the table is a plain, worn tablecloth. On top of the tablecloth is a handwritten note held down with a stone. There is nobody here.

 

[Neurotic]

Edmond Deathwish

Edmond peaks behind the warrior his eyes slightly glowing blue as he attunes himself to magical emanations. He scans the room and then shortly turns toward his companions before entering the building.

 

[Valthosian]

Thorson enters the room boldly, but underneath his veneer of calm something is starting to slip. Being lead by the nose from note to note does not sit well with the barbarian who wants answers from a person who he can see, touch, and potentially kill, not from a piece of paper that he can barely read.

Hiding his lack of literacy, he paces the edges of the space, looking intently, albeit without much insight for anything noteworthy.