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Thread: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
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2020-11-15, 10:34 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Sep 2010
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Earlier
In his vision, Gavin desperately willed his hand to move forward, to reach out to the strangely familiar woman, to grasp onto something in this unreal, dream-like state. As he blinked, his sight swimming back into focus on the real world, he found his right hand ever so slightly reaching out to the Field Marshall as she shook him back to wakefulness. Gavin coughed, quickly pulling his errant hand back to his side.
“I admit I did not have as much sleep last night as I would have liked. The Crown keeps its investigators working hard for their pay, it seems, and someone competent has to mind them and keep them from getting themselves hurt.” The Hellknight's eyes flickered out to the last of the Cerulean Society members as she was shoved roughly into the prison wagon.
“Field Marshall, I hope you know that I bear the Guard, and especially you, no ill will for...what has happened. I did, once. But I have found ways to put that darkness behind me. I think there is room for an increased amount of cooperation between the Order and Korvosa's Guard. I see you, and I see Grau, working to make changes for the better. I'd like to begin laying the groundwork of trust, between our two organizations. The group of investigators I work with, we found some information that I think is important for you to know. But I share it with the understanding that, if it were discovered I relayed this information to you before my own superiors in the Order, it could end poorly for me. Ideally I would have gone the other way around, but time is of the essence, and I don't want you caught off guard by what's about to happen.”
After the Council
Gavin waited until the group was suitably alone, and let out a long sigh. “That went far better than it had any right to. Congratulations, gentlemen, on our first successful foray into Korvosan politics. Our names have just been added to several lists, not all of them good ones to be on.”
Adjusting his armor, making sure all of his equipment was still where it should be, Gavin gave the group a quick salute. “I need to report to the Maralictor on the progress of my investigation, which has been...unfortunately lacking. But we should make plans. Gaedren Lamm is moving tomorrow, and we should try and be ready for him. Where should we meet?”ATTENTION ANYONE WHO I'M PLAYING WITH:
No news is good news.
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2020-11-15, 12:19 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Dec 2012
- Gender
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
After the Council
"The Felin Fach Griffin," Jakkin replies without hesitation. "We’ll have a proper meal for once; the kitchen there takes pride in what they send to table," he informs the others in no uncertain terms. This has been a victory, and they were damned well going to have a victory meal at somewhere with cuisine worthy of the name.
”And, we are going to have a discussion about tactics," he goes on, looking up at the rest with a scowl. "If we’re gonna keep blundering into these ridiculous situations where we can get ourselves kilt, we need to make sure we’re fightin’ together, not just a bunch of idjits flailing around on their own." It’s gotten them by so far...more or less...but that couldn’t last.
It was time to make some proper preparations.Last edited by Captain Jak; 2020-11-15 at 12:21 PM.
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2020-11-15, 04:55 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Oct 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Silas was beside himself in amusement by the abrupt ending of the meeting. He couldn't immediately recall any Darvayne Amprei, but, barring the man's Chel heritage, he made no impact upon first impression. He carried his ponderings until the announcement of a coronation being held for Ileosa one week hence hither. He quickly followed the cheers with his own, encouraging others to drown out any naysayers.
Speaking to his uncouth friends, Silas made no move to dissuade them from dinner.
"Sounds a fair bit scrumptious, Jakkin. Though if they don't have boosted seats, you could always sit on my lap."
The tiefling winked at the half man, awaiting reprimand.
"On that note, Aliani and I must be off. Errands don't do themselves! 'Til dinner, darlings!"
Later...
"Splendid. We shall see you tonight, wine in hand... and perhaps a date for the evening?"
Silas' cupped hand patted Aliani's bum twice. One might've assumed he meant to say "giddyap" as he did it, signaling the bard to find himself a plus one. The conversation concluded, they parted ways - and again between Aliani and Silas. The reason being a flower shop, Silas recommended white along with whatever colour Al would have bought. Something to add a double entendre to the innocence that Trinia emanated. Of course the bard revealed his plan and made the slayer(in bed)feel a tad dumb. Silas wandered away from the market as he and Aliani split ways.
He questioned his feet as he found himself in a street-side view of Cressida Kroft's office window. He wrangled back some sense as he turned heel only to stop in place as if a wizard from some far off tower decided that day to shoot a stunning spell his way. He fought this magic, managing to pace in place. Words breached his mouthern gate, forcing him to surrender against the horde of mumblarians. He couldn't help but watch himself from above as he recited words like a silly child preparing their hymns.
"How are you? Oh, I am well. Are you sleeping better? Did find my note? Oh! What am I doing?!"
The six-foot horned cat disheveled his hair in a stressful fury. Rubbing at his head with the swirled tips of his fingers, he vied for control against the coming wave of nerves. It was an eternity of struggle, or so it seemed to him. His tail flicked back and forth as he hunched over into an up-right fetal position. All of this in the span of a minute or two. He finally wrestled himself out of his stupor and stood upright as if he'd simply stood there the whole time. There were a few additional onlookers from what he was used to. Quick as he could, Silas licked his hands and teased his hair into something adjacent to how he liked it. His pace away from the site of his embarrassment could hardly have been faster without breaking into a full sprint. He'd have to come back another day. With flowers, perhaps.
Later still...
The cat with no hat had been unable to find relief from that display, his mind full of jitters and doubt. That was until he rejoined Aliani to visit Trinia. The flowers he brought were beautiful, no doubt. As they were greeted by Sabrina. As Aliani was replying to her inquiry about the flowers, Silas was quick to invade his vase and interrupt his speech with a quick pinch.
"They are for three, including thee!"
Removing a red flower from the container, Silas handed it to Sabrina.
"Red, for the love you hold, and the friendships we shall mold. Your bold grace could stir a nation from cold's embrace."
Next, he plucked that same rose from she whom he had just given it to.
"For our dear companion... a handmaiden like no other... Elliana! May she remain sely as she is in the eyes of the gods no matter the service she need perform for... the queen."
Returning it Sabrina, he finished by gently clasping her hands as not to press her palms into the thorny stem.
"Some say when shared out of love - whether it be between family or what have you - a rose can send a prayer to the fates. A prayer for two people to never be separated for as many years as there are petals. This one has... oh, twenty-eight? Hmm. I thought roses had closer to sixty. We'll have to remember to fetch another one thirty or so years hence, eh?"
Once the armed and armored woman had her gift, Silas allowed Aliani to gain them entrance to the painter's tower.
Trinia was greeted by Silas with a great hug, lifting her into the air if only a little.
"Wonderful to see you are - well, let me just..."
Silas licked his thumb and wiped the newest streak from her cheek.
"Though I suppose green does suit you. Perhaps I should have left it?"
As their conversation carried on, Silas latched onto Aliani's last sentiment.
"Yes, perhaps tonight? Wine and a light showcase with an old friend? We have to toddle off for a minute, but... say we came back tonight. I doubt she couldn't sneak off with us what with an actor's knack for disguise and a comedian's skill for mimicry? Aye, we could meet hither a few hours hence? What say you, Al? Trinny, dear?"Last edited by PiccadillyPi; 2020-11-16 at 05:37 AM.
~ Piccadilly Pineapple
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2020-11-15, 10:37 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jul 2017
- Location
- Illinois, USA
- Gender
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
After the Council
Aliani nodded at Jakkin, once at the suggestion of dinner, and again at the suggestion of discussing tactics. "Never been there but it sounds like a fine place! You make sure the others are there and Silas and I will join you. Get something out of the way, a private room if they have one, so we can discuss freely. Eight bells? That should give us time enough to handle our various activities beforehand."
He flexed instinctively against the hand slapping his bottom, before moving away with an exaggerated leap and giving a pouting "you know, Silas, you could at least buy me dinner and a show first" reply that turned into a hearty laugh and a wink of his own.
At The Castle
As Silas plucked the flowers from the neat arrangement, Aliani was positively apoplectic. "NO, you can't, it's..." but the damage was done. "Right, as I said, of course one of the flowers is for you, Miss Merrin. We wouldn't have had it any other way."
When they made their way toward Trinia's room, he let loose with an actual bit of venom as he fluffed the remains of the bouquet. "You know, it was a dozen roses. That's the normal number. You know who buys ten roses for somebody? Someone with a florist who can't count." After a sigh, he shook his head. "Sorry. It's just... I thought Trinia might really like those, as it was. Red and white together are meant to symbolize unity, you know. A commonality of cause if you will. You all basically condemned her to prison by bringing her here, you know. A very nice prison with a view, for now, but a prison nonetheless. Someone's going to have to answer for the king's death, and if they can't find the right person, or don't want to look too hard, anyone else will do. I wish I'd been there to say something. But what's done is done. The important thing is to keep her spirits up as long as need be -- until we can get her away from here before that happens."
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2020-11-16, 06:26 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Oct 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
The rakish tiger conceded with a shallow exhale. He agreed with the bard. He couldn't entertain the idea of a life kept in check, enclosed, or otherwise inescapably isolated. Not after what he had gone through with his father.
"I cannot say I regret anything I have done to or for her. Our fateful unition, ignorant as we are in its nature, led us to right now. She is safe. We've uncovered a conspiracy against not only the throne, but also we the people. With such talents among us, it won't be long until we straighten out these frogged fates - enough for Miss Sabor to regain the freedom you both seek. Trust me, will you? Use those broad shoulders to lift... that chiseled... that glowing heart of yours to embolden her. You simply being here is enough for now. The worst thing we can do is forget to visit."
Silas paused in a paltry effort at his own comedy. To this, he whispered into Aliani's ear.
"And allow me to remind you that you do in fact have a dozen, Mr. Rose."
Spoiler: Ex-WIP. Keeping it to explain my retcon. :)Silas brushed off an imagined spittle as he responded to Aliani.
"Pish posh! Normalcy doesn't suit either of you. Do you know what kind of man buys a dozen roses? Never met more than a few, but I always hear them coming up the stairs. Eyes to me, darling. She will not be looking at the flowers like some jeweler looking at the purity of an opal. She might appreciate them, but they're mere decoration for the true gift. These broad... no, these chiseled... Heart. This great big heart that you have that glows sely. Artists are unlike actors. They do not demand perfection from anyone but themselves. Flaws in others are wonderful gifts. A bouquet of ten? Why, how strange. Nine may even fetch her favour. The choice of red or white. Which shall it it be? A fine metaphor for the imbalance she faces. We placed her above an unknown danger. Our ignorance of some fateful unition forced our hand. I'm still sore from the bolt that hit me as I carried her from her home. You are right that it is, at its core, a prison."
He agreed with the bard overall. He couldn't fathom a life kept in check, enclosed, and unescapable. Not again. As if to provoke Aliani further, Silas plucked another ruby from his treasured vase.
"Ah! Let me explain. We shall keep this rose for you to give away. Her life is, as I said, less than sensible. I will leave the improv to the talent among us, but take this rose as a means to restore balance to her life - ah, of course! I should have only given away one.Last edited by PiccadillyPi; 2020-11-16 at 06:28 AM.
~ Piccadilly Pineapple
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2020-11-16, 10:28 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jul 2017
- Location
- Illinois, USA
- Gender
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Aliani could do little but roll his eyes at that last quip. "Eeugh. That's... that's just awful" he replied, suppressing a smile.
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2020-11-19, 10:51 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jul 2007
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Darvin
You return home after Korvosa’s new seneschal is selected and immediately move into your workshop to start work on your newest royal commission. You are just getting to the final steps of carefully etching the magical runes along the rim of the coin’s “back” side when there is a very quiet knock on the door. Looking up after you have carefully lifted the tools away to avoid any accidents you see Greg standing in the doorway.
“Hey boss. I know you’ve said before not to interrupt you while you’re in here, but I thought this was important enough to make an exception. Just had it delivered a couple minutes ago.”
Greg gingerly steps into the room far enough to offer you the envelop pinched between forefinger and thumb, which even from here you can see has been sealed with wax decorated with a stylized set of scales – emblem of the Bank of Abadar. A quick scan of the letter once opened reveals two pertinent details – one, the Bank wants to discuss the status of your loan which you took out to start this business, and two, its signed by Raemus Rittle, your father. A bit fortuitous since it gives you a way into the bank to discuss their imminent security threat from Gaedren Lamm, and without a meeting scheduled beforehand it could be a week or more before you could have seen someone with the power to do anything about it. The only question was whether you should take another member of the party with you to lend support to this warning.
“Hey boss, another thing. Probably not my place to say anything, but ah . . . don’t you have a dinner planned with Mr. Rose and the others in about an hour? Need to eat so you can keep your strength, and uh . . . focus up, right?”
(OOC: See below if Dalen elects to attend the party meeting/dinner that Jakkin is putting together in the late evening. As an incentive to get Dalen participating in party events without feeling shackled to his work bench, I will offer that attending this dinner as well as his personal matter tomorrow will have no impact on his crafting time for the Ileosa/Sabrina commission. Likewise, the DM promises this is a story beat and not an attempt to screw you out of the money from the commissions he has provided. )
Stelio Kontos/PiccadillyPi
Spoiler: For Aliani Only
Haeluna lets out an explosive sigh as she closes her eyes, slowly composing herself.
“You’re right, of course. But it is hard to let go of the work of decades when it is undone in one night. It seems that you saved us from being a part of his folly – he’s going to need a lot more than weapons to crack the Bank of Abadar. Which lends credence to the idea that this is merely another feint, although I cannot fathom what he could be planning to do that would require attacking the Bank of Abadar as a mere diversion. Hmm . . . perhaps another run at the Palace? Well, whatever he is planning you are right that we need to be ready. The weapons could come in handy for that moment, so thank you for that Aliani, although after Jack’s latest raid I suspect we will not need more food for some time.”
Smirking, the older woman looks you up and down as a thought enters into her head.
“But you didn’t come here to discuss such matters, did you child? You’re here for some more flowers for one of your sweet bees. Maybe for that certain handmaiden you’ve been getting close to? What do you think, will we be able to make use of her for the Cause?”
Standing up, the old revolutionary/flower peddler helps you arrange a beautiful bouquet of freshly-cut red and white roses.
Sabrina honestly seems to be relieved when Aliani shies away with the vase of roses, only for Silas to deftly slip one of them out of the vase and press it into the bodyguard’s armored palm. For a moment Sabrina stands ramrod straight and silent, as if in shock at the offering. And then her armored fingers close mechanically around the stem, nearly pinching Silas’s fingers off in the process . . . and crush it, coiling up the stem in her grip before drawing the flowering bud down into her armored grip and grinding it in a mass of torn petals. She then casually drops the mangled mess down to the floor before smartly and wordlessly turning on her heel and leading you both deeper into the castle.
Spoiler: Silas Only
Sabrina’s face is just as stoic and unreadable throughout this display as usual, but that just makes her actions on pair with an emotional outburst like in one of Aliani’s melodramas. This wasn’t some cold and calculated snub, it was a panicked reflex to some sort of past trauma. Even as she leads you on, you can see a slight tremor continuing in the hand Sabrina had used to crush the rose, which she attempts to control by keeping her hand clenched into a fist the whole time. Something very traumatic then, and presumably something involving roses.
***********************
Trinia blushes a bit at the attention shown to her cheek by Silas, which only deepens when she is offered the bouquet of roses by Aliani.
“Oh, they’re lovely, Mr. Ro . . . oh, I get it!”
The painter gives a melodic laugh as she takes the vase and pirouettes away from Aliani to carefully set it down amidst a field of paint jars on the nearby table. She twists it a bit back and forth before stepping back to consider it thoughtfully.
“The vase is a little plain, but I think I can touch it up!”
The rest of Aliani’s words register on Trinia then, and she laughs again as she stretches her arms straight out from her sides and pirouettes away from the table again, nearly swatting the vase off with one of her spinning arms before with a little “whoop!” she stops and balances the vase again.
“Are you kidding!? Look at how much space I have here – do you think I could do this in my old space? And no Choker peeping on me, waiting for me to go to sleep so it can try the shudders again to break in!? Gods, that place was a dump!”
And then as if realizing maybe she shouldn’t take that for granted, Trinia looks at Sabrina with an honest note of concern in her voice.
“That’s . . . that’s not a problem you have here in the palace, right? Monsters creeping on you so they can strangle you in your sleep one dark night?”
Sabrina sternly shakes her head and hooks a thumb back at the rather wicked-looking falchion on her back.
“If you find any, be sure to let me know. They will swiftly regret coming here.”
“Oh, great that’s . . . you have no idea how much of a relief that is to me, Miss Merrin!”
For just a moment Sabrina’s expression softens a bit as she nods.
“You will be safe here. Her Majesty and I will make sure of that.”
“Oooh! Hey, is that wine!?”
Trinia asks, spying the bottles Aliani had purchases peeking out from his pack. Without pausing to ask for permission, she slides one of the bottles further out of the pack to check the label, and gives a girly shriek of delight as she sees what it is.
“Oh, this is my favorite vintage! Could I have this bottle, Mr. Rose? I’ve been craving a glass for a couple weeks now, but Mr. Orsini isn’t much of a drinker and well . . . I haven’t wanted to impose on Her Majesty’s generosity any further . . .”
A thought occurring to her, Trinia dances back and claps her hands.
“Wait, I know! I’ll trade you for it!”
Skipping over to the cot shoved up against one wall, the painter slides out a small pack, from which she produces a thin sheet of glimmering mail and a silver medallion on a chain. Coming back over to the two of you, she presents the chain shirt to Aliani and the medallion to Silas.
“I don’t have any money right now, but I do still have this! My suit of chainmail for your bottle of wine, Mr. Rose! And Silas, you can take Mr. Orsini’s protective medallion back to him now. I imagine I won’t need either of these anymore, so I want them to find good homes again.”
Trinia says with a genuine smile as she offers the items to each of you.
After a moment's thought, the bard/painter snaps her fingers and she holds up a hand before going back over to her pack, pulling out a bulging purse of money which she presses into Silas's hands.
"Oh yeah! I've been meaning to give this to you as . . . well . . . y'know, saving me and all, and I don't think I'll need it anymore, so I figured maybe it could do you some good?"
The painter then stands up on her tiptoes to give the tiefling a chaste kiss on the cheek.
"I'm really grateful you came along when you did - who knows where I would be now without you, but it's probably nowhere good!"
(OOC: Silas gets 825 GP from Trinia, long-overdue, but I don’t recall her handing over her +1 mithril chain shirt at that time – correct me if I’m wrong on that. Otherwise, here’s Aliani’s latest gift to keep him up with WBL since Dalen is about to get a 3,000 GP windfall thanks to Her Majesty. )
THEChanger
Earlier
Fully back in the here and now, you glance over at Kroft to see a series of emotions flicker across her face as you extend an olive branch. They come and go too fast for you to readily identify what she is feeling, but you definitely made an impact on your former Captain. When she has collected her thoughts, she tentatively offers an olive branch back.
“. . . Thank you, Ser Dimir. I will admit that I have reservations about the Order of the Nail, because the Guard is charged with protecting the citizens of Korvosa, even from themselves, whereas the Order simply wishes to maintain . . . Order. Sometimes the law must be applied with a gentler hand than I have seen the Order of the Nail apply it with . . . but not always. Perhaps there are individuals too dangerous to hand over to the Arbiters, but I will not make that judgement.”
Kroft concludes, her emphasis on “I” as she looks at it making it clear that for those dangerous individuals, she is willing to accommodate the Order of the Nail’s summary judgement . . . or perhaps just yours. Your old captain then lightens the mood with one of her jovial smiles.
“As for your secret, I think I will be able to keep it. Depending on what this information is, I may need to take action that could in turn alert members of your Order that I know something I shouldn’t, but I have no intention of waving over the next Hellknight I see to explain where I got the information from.”
Kroft’s expression turns serious again a moment later.
“In the spirit of new cooperation with the Order, I also have something for you. It may be nothing, or it could lead to one of those dangerous people I just mentioned. I don’t think it’s connected to him, so you might not be interested, but I could use another set of eyes that I trust on this. If you’re interested and willing to limit who else you speak to about this, I can share more information . . . but I will share now that it involves a body that we found a few days ago.”
After
Deciding that it was best to report on your lack of progress now rather than later, you head to the Order of the Nail’s base of operations within Korvosa proper – the so-called Great Tower along the northern edge of the Heights, overlooking the narrow strait that separated the rest of Korvosa from Old Korvosa. Although construction on the tower started many decades ago, it was not until Queen Domina got involved that the project really took off. Almost literally in a sense, as under Queen Domina’s orders the tower’s size and height were massively expanded, ascending nearly 300 feet up and making it one of the tallest structures in all of Varisia (and second only to the highest tower of Castle Korvosa). Apparently the Tower was originally meant to serve as the new base of operations for the Sable Marines, but the funding that Queen Domina poured into the tower’s construction gave her control over it, and she awarded it to the Order of the Nail instead. Over the years as the Order grew it became clear that even the massive tower would not serve as a headquarters, and so Citadel Vraid was established outside the city while the Tower remained as the Order’s liaison office within Korvosa.
Walking across the drawbridge into the Tower’s third floor, you find that the building is even more deserted than usual. Only one armiger is manning the front desk in the sweeping lobby of the tower, someone you don’t know very well save by the reputation that she tends to be a bit of a screw-up. Obviously left behind at the Tower as a sort of punishment instead of patrolling the countryside with the rest of the Order as per Queen Ileosa’s orders, you wonder what your assignment says about your status as you approach. She glances up at you from her book on magical military theory for just one brief moment before going right back to her place on the page.
“If you’re looking for Maralictor Vulso, Armiger Dimir, he is not here. Out in the field with the Lictor and the others. If you do have something to report, Mistress of Blades Vox is still here – her office is on the twelfth floor, second door on the right.”
Mistress of Blades Maidrayne Vox, second-in-command of the entire Order of the Nail and arguably the second-best duelist in all of Korvosa (eclipsed only by Sabrina Merrin). You had seen her only from a distance, much like Lictor DeVries himself, and like the Lictor her reputation proceeds her. Perhaps you are moving up in the world (literally, given her office is three floors above Vulso’s), but given your experiences that just means you have further to fall if you fail.
Nonetheless, that was who you would apparently be reporting to for the immediate future, and so you go up to the twelfth floor, second door on the right, and knock politely. From within you hear the heavy thunk of a dagger sinking into wood, an exasperated sigh, and then finally a crisp “Enter!”
Warrior without equal she may be, but an administrator Vox clearly isn’t. The office beyond the now-open door was worse than untidy, with piles of papers stacked up haphazardly across the floor, intermingled with empty wine bottles. The only relatively clear space in the room was Vox’s desk in the middle, which was currently “only” covered by a half-empty bottle of wine, a variety of daggers carefully embedded by their points into the desk’s surface in paradoxically very orderly rows, and Vox’s well-toned, leather-clad legs.
The Mistress of Blades herself is still wearing her uniform and armored breastplate, but the remaining pieces of her armor are likewise scattered about in the rest of the room’s chaos. Holding up one slim finger on her left hand for you to wait, Vox selects another one of the daggers with her right hand. And then after a brief flexing of her extended finger and a soft arcane word, the Mistress of Blades hurls the dagger into the wall right by your head. The blade hisses past your left ear, leaving behind a blurry train of magic as it unerringly misses you to strike the wall almost directly behind your ear. Glancing behind you, you see that the dagger has embedded itself directly in the forehead of the much-abused drawing of a manticore pinned to the wall.
“Yes!”
Vox hisses, and then composes herself with a soft clearing of her throat and swings her legs down off the desk.
“Er, yes, Armiger . . . Dimir, isn’t it? Vulso’s little protégé? He mentioned before leaving that you were hunting down that filthy traitor. Any luck with that yet?”
Spoiler: Maidrayne Vox
Spoiler: Gavin Only
Your report to your superiors delivered, it was time to take care of your final bit of business before dinner with the others. After doubling back several times to ensure that you are not being followed by anyone, you step into the Pantheon of the Many. A couple of hours before sunset, the modest chapel is largely empty but not entirely deserted – several caretakers are setting up for the large influx of people that will be arriving at sunset, and perhaps half a dozen people are scattered about in one alcove or another praying to the statue representing their god or goddess of choice.
There is no one currently in the alcove for Desna, but as you walk towards it you cross in front of the old alcove for Sarenrae (still here despite the Sarenraeites having their own small chapel elsewhere in the city now) and catch a glimpse of something curious – a man in full plate mail kneeling in prayer. The armor is adorned with the sunburst symbols of Sarenrae, and seems oddly familiar. Yet again today your vision briefly flickers as something tickles at the back of your mind, and a name bubbles to the surface . . . Mordin?
Captain Jak
You’ve heard of Blackjack, of course, as every other citizen of Korvosa has heard at least one story of the city’s heroic vigilante. Stories that stretch back centuries, in fact, to nearly the city’s very founding (and there are even a few apocryphal tales of Blackjack fighting the Shaonti alongside Jakthion Korvosa and the other city founders). So the real Blackjack is either an elf, a vampire, or some other long-lived humanoid, or a series of different individuals over the years (whether copy cats or different people just dubbed “Blackjack” later on).
There are all sorts of fantastical stories passed around the taverns of Blackjack’s actions in the distant past . . . but you manage to also gleam a few more recent stories. People being pulled out of burning buildings the night of the riots, innocent bystanders getting snatched away from rioting mobs, all sorts of recent heroics. But that’s also telling, because in between about the night of the riots and several years ago, there are no stories. No reliable sightings of Blackjack, anyway, and while gaps in time are also typical for Blackjack’s legend before another one emerges, generally “Blackjack” has picked up some new tricks in the time in-between – swashbuckler to mage to ninja to (one time) a heavily armored behemoth. But there’s no change in tactics from the Blackjack several years ago to the one now – he’s still swinging down from the rooftops to dispense justice with a handcrossbow and rapier. It’s like he just . . . quit, for a while, and only came back with the chaos of the riots . . . and Gaedren Lamm’s rise to power. The masked vigilante also seems to want Lamm’s head on a platter in the worst way, like you and the others in your new group of would-be vigilantes.
Your gentle prodding about the infamous vigilante in various bars doesn’t get you much further than that, and yet it does also get you some unexpected attention. As the sun begins to dip towards the horizon and you prepare to go home to wash up in preparation for your group dinner in a few hours, you hear a quiet “psst!” from a nearby dark alleyway. And sure enough, standing there is a masked figure that certainly looks an awful lot like the one you had seen last night beneath the Kendall Ampitheather.
“So . . . I hear that you are asking around about me. What would you like to know, friend?”
Blackjack asks.
Everyone
At the appointed hour, everyone gathers in front of the Felin Fach Griffin, a fairly upscale tavern located in a fairly unexpected spot along the docks of Midpoint. Much like the posh restaurants located a few city blocks further north in North Point proper, the tavern offered a high-quality dining experience that was at odds with the usual experience along the docks. Which of course was a matter of pride for the family of halfling sailors who started the restaurant some years ago from rather humble beginnings. Unlike some other establishments that started on the Docks with the naïve hope of adding some “class” to the lower-class district, “The Griffin” enjoyed the support of its populace because its owner were some of their own. Which isn’t to say that there wasn’t the occasional night of low-brow entertainment in the form of a bar fight, but it was always held on a designated day when the tavern set out the lower-quality furniture beforehand.
Tonight it seemed like it was going to be one of the calmer nights, and while the group did not have a reservation the attendant at the door promised the group would get some table space somewhere. Busy as ever, it turned out that this “somewhere” would be a small table in between the door to the kitchen and the door to the back alley . . . which was perhaps fortuitous in any event, as it left the group somewhat isolated from the tavern’s noisier inhabitants.Last edited by Inspectre; 2020-11-20 at 06:58 PM.
I didn't actually intend to kill EVERYONE. It just sort of happened.
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2020-11-20, 04:55 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jan 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Dalen practically jumps when Greg enters the room, shaken from an intense focus. He collects himself to read the letter, "ah, thank you for bringing this to my attention. And reminding me of the dinner. Time passes all too quickly when making good progress," he sets down his tools and puts them aside neatly.
The trip to the Griffin gives Dalen plenty of time to stew over the summons from the bank of Abadar, and to consider what exactly it means. In the previous timeline he knew exactly where he and his father stood, but in this timeline so many of the details had played out differently - and were playing out differently. Whatever bad blood exists between them in this timeline, Raemus Rittle was still his best chance to be taken seriously with regards to Lamm's threat. The man who raised him, who taught him to be perceptive and analytical, the primary skills that carried him forward even now. He would understand as well as Dalen that when faced with an unbreakable lock, the smart thief instead tries to lift the key from the owner's pocket. Dalen could only speculate on exactly how Lamm was planning to break in, but given the unflappable confidence displayed by Lamm's proxy the previous evening, there was no doubt that his key to entry (whether literal or metaphorical) was already in the palm of his hand.
Whatever apprehension for that meeting he set aside. He had appearances to keep up, and he put on a cordial smile even as they were crammed into that hallway. He snaps his fingers as they are all seated, "an eventful and productive day, if I do say so myself. We can now add Andaisin to the list of people who doubtlessly want to kill us, but so long as the Queen still sits on the throne our fortunes will be buoyed," he picks up his glass to toast, very specifically looking at Aliani, "to the long and prosperous reign of Queen Ileosa Arabasti. May she and her favored champions protect Korvosa from murderers, monsters, and morbid corpse-humpers,"
Spoiler: OOC
I'm worried about the GM screwing me out of crafting time, or screw me generally. Dalen's priorities and Darvin's priorities aren't necessarily the same thing, and I'm more than happy to snap at plot hooks you throw his way.
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2020-11-20, 07:48 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Oct 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
"Darling, I expect I will spend this all on your comedy shows once this is all over. The material you must have from the past two weeks alone could sell for the year - at the very least!"
The red and black clad tiger checked Sabrina's reaction to gauge a need to retract any thought of the queen in Trinia's future comedy shows, but otherwise felt no need to make mention of it.
As the pair left the royal grounds, Silas reminisced to Aliani.
"I remember when I first began properly courting my Vjarha. This was before you or my daughter were born. We had just spent the night together, and I was so very nervous the next day. As much as perhaps you were your first day on stage. We were set for a dinner, and that morning I traveled hours away from Korvosa to find flowers that I'd heard of, but couldn't find in the city. They're still hard to come by these days, but your florist could probably acquire them with a week's notice. Tiger Lily. You should have seen her that night. We couldn't dress up like you or I today, but she was beautiful. Eyes like cobalt. Hair like the moon-lit sky. Her clothes were dyed by every spice you could name, but every colour fit her so well. From the first moment I handed her the bouquet I had gathered my darling laughed every time she saw them. It was as if she were under a spell. Finally, when they looked too dry to be pretty, she ground them up with some cardamom into a tea that we shared. Did you know tiger lily is toxic to most felines? I didn't. I had to see a healer every day for a week. It cost me all the silver I had saved up, but do you know what it gave me? Years of love. Whenever she and I would fight, she would tell me to be careful. She would say, 'I might put some lilies in your dinner.' When we were together, she would call me her 'tiger ninny' - and fool for her I was. We never had another flower in our home, but she always said they were her favourite. Vjala, when she was born, we debated on naming her Lily among our other options. She was such a tenacious infant that we thought she might be the death of us both sooner or later. We would call her our tiger lily when we were together looking down at her as she slept - rare as it was. Looking back, I suppose this sound foolish. But I miss it. My life as it is today... I speak too much of myself sometimes. You should tell me about yourself one of these days. Free of charge, just for you. We should catch up with the others. Much to discuss, aye?"
Later, at the Griffin, Silas was elated to decompress from the day. He let his gut form a comfortable roundness that was usually kept bluff from habit and chance clientele. Once seated, he ordered the first few rounds using whatever daily expenditure his personal wealth allowed. With Dalen's grateful decree, Silas raised his pint with a hearty "here here!". After that, he kept rather quiet and contemplative for at least a few sets of drinks, only responding when addressed directly. While still sober, he thought he might visit his wife in the Gray. It had been a long time since they spoke. As more liquid entertained his brain, the idea went further into the morrow or a day following that. It wasn't something to do alone, or drunk, that much he knew.~ Piccadilly Pineapple
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2020-11-21, 09:23 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jul 2017
- Location
- Illinois, USA
- Gender
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Spoiler: At The Flower Shop (for the DM)"Could be. I... if you can, just spread out, eyes and ears. Whatever it is, we are in no position to stop it. Just, if anyone sees anything ... take notes. We'll win it another day."
"She's... not a 'sweet bee'. Maybe someday, who knows? Right now she's just someone who needs a reminder that she's not alone. And pray for her that we need not use her for the cause, for the only way she will be able to serve it, is as a martyr. And it's not her choice to make."
At The Castle
The thoughtless, senseless destruction of the rose by Sabrina made Aliani gasp audibly. "No! You can't... oh, dear oh dear!" It was just a flower, well, now it was twenty separate twentieths of a flower, give or take. But even as she strode away, he bent over to scoop up the little bits and pieces. Even as he hustled to catch up, the daggers he was staring at her could have killed -- well, not her, probably, but a normal person? No chance.
Aliani watched with bemusement as Trinia boasted about her new "home". A bird in a gilded cage still cannot fly, he thought to himself -- but better not to spoil her mood. Then, for the second time in mere moments, someone decided to re-appropriate a gift intended for another.
"You ... sure, yes, yes, take the wine. I can get another one. Save some though, all right? We'll come check in on you in a couple of days and share a glass... trade? You don't have to trade ... no, I don't need any money! It's a gift, from ..."
"No, no, I couldn't possibly! That's... oh, heavens, that's..." It was clear that he recognized the material. How could anyone not? "That would be a far greater... it's just plain wine, it's not worth... you can't possibly expect me to take armor like THAT for just..." He looked plaintively over at Silas, then back at Trinia, hoping they'd let him in on the joke... what did she mean, 'she wouldn't need it any more?' After a moment or three, it was clear that it was no joke, and his manners in accepting freely-given gifts would have to prevail.
"I... um... Miss Sabor? Thank you. This is, without a shadow of a doubt, the nicest gift anyone has given me. Regrettably, given recent events, I expect it will be put to quite good use." He approached her, and gave as close to a bear hug as he could, whispering in her ear as he did. "You watch yourself in here. I know everything seems friendly, but these things have a way of changing in castles and kingdoms. This armor may not help, but keep your wits about you. We are watching over you, and when you need us, we will be there for you. Have no doubt."
On The Walk
The bard listened intently to Silas's every word, nodding appropriately, a small smile crossing his face as though the fond memories Silas was bringing back were his own. He extended his hand to hold the tiefling's as they continued to walk. "It doesn't sound foolish at all, it sounds exactly right. You and your Vharja had a true mutual connection, beyond mere memories, beyond physical attractions or shared ideals or hobbies. What some people would call a soul-mate, and your daughter, well, what is she but your soul and your wife's, made as one? That connection, it doesn't go away, ever. Time and distance can separate most things, but not that. That is forever, and always. It's the stuff that true fairy tales are made of. Cherish the gift of feelings, and embrace them, I say. Let them empower you. I'd give everything in the world, all the money and superficial friendships and fleeting fame, for one minute's love as strong as that you held for years." He gave that hand a friendly squeeze.
"And whatever you want to know about me, you have my permission to ask. I assure you though, the myth of reputation is much more exciting than the real story."
He slowed their pace for a moment, giving a concerned look. "Do you think it's okay that I took that armor? I don't know her situation, but I can't imagine it's not something she can just afford to give away, but it seems rude to ask her that. Do you think I should give it back later? You know her a lot better than I do."
At The Griffin
Aliani patted the others on the shoulder in greeting as he slipped into a chair facing the front door. "I'll take your recommendation for what to order, Jakkin. Your place, after all! Seems very friendly."
He returned Dalen's pointed stare with one of his own. "To her decent heart, may it serve her well in difficult times" he replied, raising a glass to clink in return and taking a small, somber sip to end the formality of the toast before putting down his glass. "But they're going to tear her apart, you know. I give it two months before she's either doing their bidding, or they decide she isn't."
"But that's not why we are here, is it?" he asked, raising his glass again. "To our hosts, and to planning today for a better tomorrow."Last edited by Stelio Kontos; 2020-11-21 at 09:24 PM.
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2020-11-22, 07:09 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Oct 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
On the Walk
Aliani's attempts to console Silas only proved to drive the dagger in his heart deeper. He was right. That connection never faded. That made it all the worse what he had done to them. Before seeing Vjala again he thought himself beyond redemption. However, even if it might prove as difficult a labour as retrieving the damned from Avernus, he had found hope for them to reconnect. Rather, he desired her to be free from the consequences of his misdeeds. Silas' reaction to Aliani's words amounted to a numb smirk. It was all he could do to allow the young man his passionate dreams. The moment passed and Silas recovered in time to receive access to the annals of Aliani Rose.
"Devils and saints, Rosie! With your reaction I'd sooner think it were charity from villains to a kind king. Darling, she is doing her best to keep you safe. What was that play you did with the angels and the - the fellow with the hair? She is your angel and... perhaps these coins are her way of saying she is counting on me to protect your delicious derriere. Or you are her angel? Admittedly, I never saw that one. Ah, now I am curious. How, and by what magic, do you fall into so many sordid affairs? Earnest, sensitive, and far too concerned about others' opinion to be healthy. Is it the curse of being an actor or...? Darling, you must tell me."Last edited by PiccadillyPi; 2020-11-22 at 07:09 AM.
~ Piccadilly Pineapple
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2020-11-22, 11:59 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Dec 2012
- Gender
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
A Hand of Twenty-One
While it would have been a stretch to say he had been expecting this meeting, Jakkin isn’t entirely surprised at its occurrence. He hasn’t precisely been being subtle in his inquiries, and if a man is going to be a successful masked folk hero then he’s going to have both a careful ear to the ground and grateful aforementioned folk to pass word to him.
"I appreciate the opportunity to talk rather than a quick bolt in the back of the neck for being nosy," the halfling replies, a little wryly. The latter certainly had been a possibility, but not one he had rated very highly based on their prior interactions.
He takes a moment to organize his thoughts; while many of his companions might call him gruff or abrupt, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about his words or what effect they might have. He’s rarely cheerful or chipper these days—not much of a surprise, based on their current task—but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t lean towards...intense, when he feels the need.
Just ask Kroft.
"I was just getting a feel for the man who seems to be an ally in the attempt to bring justice to Lamm," he replies finally. "As I see it, Blackjack has been around for a long, long time, but the person behind the name; well, that’s a little more flexible." His words are...judicious.
"You, though, you’ve done this for a while," he continues. "Blackjack swings about on his ropes and strikes out with rapier and rapier wit both; that ain’t changed recently. You did stop for a time, but from the look of you now it weren’t because you couldn’t anymore, so you decided to stop. Fell in love I’d wager."
He hadn’t intended on breaking down the history of the city’s masked folk hero this day, but since he had kindly shown up to talk....
"Fell in love, had somethin’ worth living for, worth putting down the mask for. And then that all changed with the riots, with Lamm’s involvement. You hate the man, that’s clear," he says quietly, meeting the much taller man’s gaze evenly with his own.
"You heard my reasons, when we thought we had Lamm cornered," he goes on, regarding the vigilante speculatively. "And I know those of those I’m working with. I don’t give a damn who you are behind that mask; I’m just wonderin’, who did you lose? Spouse? …child?" His tone is...sympathetic.
The Felin Fach Griffin
Jakkin had made a point of being at the Griffin before everyone else—after all, he is the one who made the call for this meeting. The table is one of those designated for the use of folk of the majority size in the city, fortunately for his companions; and rather than a someone undignified ‘high chair’ that is an option in the house for mixed-size parties, Jakkin prefers to sit on his heels in one of the table’s standard chairs to bring him up to an acceptable level.
"Any of the drink options are a safe choice; the house doesn’t stand for inferior swill," he advises the others. A mug of one of the dark stouts is at his own elbow, inroads having already been made judging from the level of its contents.
"As for food, go with whatever suits your tastes. Just stay away from the Special unless you’re feeling adventurous; the cook likes to...experiment, with new dishes," he says dryly.
Looking about the table, he shoves his thoughts about his earlier surprise meeting aside for later, and gets down to business.
"As well as a celebratory dinner, I wanted us to get together and talk about our tactics. Bluntly, we do a piss-poor job of supporting one another on any sort of regular, and if we’re gonna keep stumbling into the kind of ****e that we’ve been doing so in hunting down the Bastard, we need to make sure we’re all on the same page about how t’go about it. Any objections?" he asks with a glower about the table.
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2020-11-22, 07:45 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jan 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Dalen responds to Jakkin, "Well, I do have an appointment at the bank of Abadar tomorrow, which I was going to use as an opportunity to discuss Lamm's threat to the bank. I don't expect much to come of it, but hopefully they will at least take the matter seriously. If any of you see any opportunity for joint cooperation I'd be open to it," he shrugs, "a few days ago I might have thought conventional investigations would be able to penetrate Lamm's organization and at least reveal some of its base of operations and leadership, but what we've learned of his connection with the Derro suggests that the inner circle of his operations are anything but conventional,"
"However, I do think we will need to make preparations before any confrontation with Lamm and his crazed associates. At very least we will need to procure some sort of protection against fear and fire. Not all of us are naturally fire resistant, after all," he nods to Silas, "I have spells that can ward our minds against Vreeg's necromancy, and can attempt to procure a spell of fire resistance and add it to my spellbook, but if any of you can find some means of procuring these magical effects that would be appreciated," he looks directly at Aliani as he says this, "I haven't enough spells at my disposal to ward everyone, and each one I prepare is one fewer spell for other purposes,"
"Speaking of our wards,"he turns to Aliani, "we should try to acquire some Myrrh. Add four pinches - no more, no less - of it to your material components when casting an abjuration, and it will become more tenacious and harder to dispel. We know Vreeg is a wizard, and I would not be surprised if he is capable of dispelling our wards,"
"All of you should consider magical accessories. I'd be happy to provide each of you a free consultation on what accessories would complement you best, and can even craft them for you at a 'friends and family' rate," he explains, "however, if we're willing to throw our time into a long-shot, there is one gamble we could pursue. I have a scroll of Locate Object that I can scribe into my spellbook and prepare several times. I've seen that eye, and provided it isn't shielded by lead we could scan Old Korvosa for a hint of where that Vreeg fellow is hiding out. If that doesn't lead us directly to Lamm, removing that ally would at very least be a devastating blow. Of course, that would likely mean a second encounter with his odious pet, so we'd best be prepared before commencing that hunt,"
Spoiler: OOC
Dalen can learn Resist Energy, and Aliani can prep it, and if each of us prepares it twice we can cover everyone other than Silas - who already is fire resistant and the spell doesn't stack with his resistance. We'll need someone to prep Protection from Evil three times and someone else to prepare it twice to cover everyone. Myrrh is 5 sp per dose, and 4 doses adds +1 to abjurations for all caster level checks and dispel checks. There's also Liquid Ice that can be used to augment Resist Energy [Fire] but it's freaking expensive and only adds +2 resistance so I wouldn't recommend it.
Speaking of resistance, Dalen is the only one in the party with a cloak of resistance. I think that would be a very prudent choice for everyone other than Aliani (who doesn't need one due to getting a resistance bonus from his class). I know +1 doesn't feel like a lot,
Last edited by Darvin; 2020-11-22 at 07:45 PM.
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2020-11-24, 12:42 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Sep 2010
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Earlier
Gavin failed to suppress a small chuckle at the image of Cressida frantically attempting to get the attention of a Hellknight. “The soul of discretion, as always Field Marshall.”
His face hardened somewhat when the Field Marshall spoke of a body, and information. “As a member of the Order of the Nail, it is my sworn duty to oppose the workings of chaos and uphold the sanctity of civilization. Were a threat to such to come to my attention, I would be honor bound to pursue it. I would also be honor bound to report such information to my superiors if I felt it were a threat-”
Gavin frowned in surprise as he found his hand clutching the hilt of his sword, tightly enough to make his knuckles white under the blackened leather glove. There was no threat here, so why did his heart beat and his brow dampen as though he were about to be thrust into mortal combat? Why did the mere thought of the Maralictor's displeasure cause him such distress? He shook his head, and forced a smile. “No. You have my discretion, Field Marshall. I suspect I will find it necessary to inform the other investigators of the crown, but otherwise I will inform you before I share what you are about to tell me with anyone, including the Order. I appreciate that you are willing to place such trust in me.”
Releasing his sword, Gavin took a deep breath in. “Alright. Last night, the group of investigators I am assigned went, disguised as agents of Drevargo Bravasi, to a Black Moot, or whatever the lowlifes call their little councils. Gaedren Lamm had called it, in an attempt to cow the other criminal leaders into allying with him, or at least to stay out of his way. The first useful piece of information we learned was that Gaedren plans on attempting to rob the Bank of Abadar, the day after tomorrow. He was light on specifics – the man has developed a taste for the villainous monologue. I didn't think he could be more insufferable, but he continues to surprise me.”
“The second important piece of information is who brought you your perverse gift. The meeting was interrupted by a group of Hellknights. They call themselves the Order of the Eye. Not an officially recognized Order. Before last night, I would have told you they were a story meant to scare new recruits, boogeymen to keep lax Knights in line. Turns out, they are real, and just as ruthless as the stories would have you believe. They make the Nail look like Shelynites in comparison. I was able to convince them to let us go as fellow Hellknights, but if I had been anyone else we'd be dead or tied up on your doorstep.”
“Last. This is the real reason I'm here, and it's going to be an upheaval in the city. In the long term, it might be worse than Lamm. Before I was assigned to this squad of investigators, they had reason to look into Lady Andasain. Apparently, they uncovered evidence that she is an Urgathoan, which was duly turned over the Her Majesty the Queen. Which, in turn, Queen Illeosa plans to reveal in a few hours, at the meeting where the Council plans to confirm Andasain as the city's new Seneschal. I don't have to tell you what leveling that kind of accusation at the ambassador of Cheliax could mean. It's a better alternative to having a foreigner decide who sits the Crimson Throne, but. That's not a woman who takes that kind of insult lying down. She'll be actively working to undermine the Queen at every turn. Even if the city survives Gaedren's rebellion, I am very concerned for the continued survival of our home. Everyone needs to be ready for what is coming, from the dock workers to the nobles on the Council to the Guard to the Order.”
Gavin found a chair, slumping down into it. He hadn't realized until this moment just how tired he was. How overwhelmed, how in over his head. The young man pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. “By the gods, Field Marshall. There's an old Varisian curse my mother shared with me – 'May you live in interesting times.' It doesn't get more interesting than this, does it?”
The Tower
Gavin gritted his teeth as the fellow armiger relayed such damning news. It will be a miracle if I see sunrise.
“Thank you, Armiger Sura. I'll just, ah, head on up then.”
The echo of Gavin's footsteps against the stairs kept time with the refrain in his head. Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it. As he ascended the tower, Gavin could not help but picture the many times he had watched the Mistress of Blades humiliate new recruits. The times he had listened as she attended to prisoners. The one time he had been on watch as she returned from one of her hunts, armor stained with blood, a wild grin on her face. Gavin would die for Maralictor Vulso, and respected Lictor DeVries with his whole heart. But he feared Maidrayne Vox, more than he feared all the devils in Hell. There were very few people who delighted in violence the way she did. There were whispers that she honored Zon-Kuthon as her true deity, and while Gavin doubted that, he could never be sure the rumors were wrong.
And here he was, standing in front of her door. Well. Maybe he had caught her in a good mood. And if not, maybe it would be over quickly.
Gavin opened the door upon being prompted, slowly, and despite himself flinched as the dagger buried itself in the wood not two inches from his head. The refrain quickened. Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnit
“Ah, yes, Mistress Vox. Armiger Dimir, Scout First Class. Unfortunately, Xerxes continues to evade me. I continue to follow the leads tying him to Gaedren Lamm, as well as search for other leads as to his whereabouts. However, during my investigation I have come upon unrelated information which I felt it in the best interest of the Order to report immediately.”
Gavin then proceeds to related the information concerning Lady Andasain's choice of deity, as well as Lamm's plan to rob the Bank of Abadar, in a suitably professional but terrified fashion.
The Felin Fach Griffen
Gavin sipped a small glass of ale, contemplating what Jakkin had said. “I don't disagree that there is room for improvement in our tactics, Mister Longshanks. But I think it is important to put forward that, for a group of people who have known each other for a few weeks at best, and in my case a few days, we fought remarkably well together. I've seen squads of Hellknights who have trained together for years have more difficulties, should they find themselves without a commanding officer. Without a clear leader, we still displayed an aptitude for cooperation I find surprising. That's not to say this discussion won't be valuable, but there is something rare to this group. We successfully fought off that giant thing in the lab, and Gaedren's attack on the Eel. Accomplishments should be recognized and commended, even as we strive for better.”
Setting down the glass, Gavin leaned forward. “That being said. We should try to quantify our strengths, and adjust our strategies to highlight those and minimize our disadvantages. We have three highly mobile melee combatants in myself, Mister Longshanks, and Mister Rata'da. We have a mage who, and correct me if I am wrong Mister Rittle, focuses on disabling and controlling enemies before more explosive magics. And we have Mister Rose, who can heal and strengthen his companions. The things we are lacking are ranged capabilities – I am a decent hand with a bow, but it is hardly where I am strongest – as well as a more heavily armored fighter, someone who could stand still and take blows.
I would submit then, that as much as possible we need to set the field of engagement. We have been reactive up until now. We need to be proactive, taking the fight to Gaedren in places where we can pin down key targets in places where the three of us can move in and out of position. Quick, decisive strikes, then retreat. We also need to focus on eliminating a given target before moving onto the next. When we were fighting in the lab, we spread out, each engaging a different derro. If we had communicated better, focused on efforts on a single one, that derro would have spent less time tossing dangerous chemicals at us, and we would have been less in danger of expiring. I'm sure I'm not the only one at the table to come to these conclusions, but those strike me as the most important general improvements that can be made here.”
Gavin nodded to Dalin when he mentioned informing the Abadarans of Gaedren's planned heist. "I've spoken with both Field Marshall Kroft and with the current highest ranking Order member in the city. I doubt the Order will be able to bring much to bear in this situation, what with most of our ranks patrolling the outskirts of Korvosa's holdings by order of the crown, but the Guard will at least be on alert."
Spoiler: A Time, A Place
Gavin kept his head down, having thrown a cloak over his armor, not wanting to draw attention to a Hellknight frequenting the Pantheon of the Many. Not wanting to draw attention to himself. Yet, he could not shake the feeling of familiarity with the man kneeling before the image of Sarenrae. Gavin quietly approached, and cleared his throat. “Pardon me. This is odd, but are you...is your name Ser Saendar, by chance?”ATTENTION ANYONE WHO I'M PLAYING WITH:
No news is good news.
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2020-11-26, 02:56 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jul 2017
- Location
- Illinois, USA
- Gender
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Spoiler: For Silas"Well..." Aliani replied slowly in response to Silas's inquiry about how he managed to get his nose in so many pies, to mix the metaphor.
"To put it shortly, Silas, I've lived a bit of life when I felt alone, and helpless. And I've lived a bit of life when I knew people would be there for me when I needed them. And I now which world I'd rather live in.
"It doesn't really cost anything, you know. Five minutes here, a few coppers there, a smile instead of a frown. What's it cost, really? You know as well as I do that people are just ... better ... when they're happier, when they don't have the burdens of wondering why their child is ill, or how they're going to find their next meal. You take those basic burdens away, and you find people have a lot more potential, a lot more freedom to make a real impact. That's good for everyone.
"But I've lived -- it's funny actually, quite a strange coincidence if you believe in such things -- I've lived in that very building where Miss Sabor lives now. Was in the one right across the hall. It's the sort of place where... well, you don't live there because you want to. What she gave me is, well, probably most everything she's got. What worries me more is her saying 'I won't need it any more'. Did you notice that? I do hope she's not thinking of doing anything she shouldn't. I've felt those feelings, too."
Aliani stopped, looking around to see that nobody was all that close to hear. "But the most important reason is this: if we don't get involved, then who will? When Saint Milani lived among the elves, a great demon attacked Kyonin. The elves who were supposed to protect the land did not return to fight it, and a great many lives were lost. She did what had to be done, took action, took initiative, and with the help of those who could help her -- wielding pitchforks and table legs if they had to -- the threat was finally repelled. For those people, it was only a matter of life and death, and they couldn't have done it without help, and without each and all of them that did rising up to the challenge.
"And now look about you. This town is a shambles, with a madman trying to seize power, and those who have the power content to let it be someone else's problem. Content to hoard grain when people are starving. Content to let an undead-worshipping demoness rise to the power behind the throne, had we not been there to stop it. So yes, we're going to help people, one by one, because we're going to need every pitchfork we can get by the time this is all over."
__________________________________________________ __________
At The Griffin
The bard took Jakkin's suggestions on the menu to heart, nodding to the kindly-looking waitress. "Just a vegetable stew, a loaf of bread and honey if you have it, and a glass of milk." When it arrived, he bowed his head briefly in silence before beginning to eat.
"I've no objections, Jakkin. I think it's an excellent idea, and I think we all feel that the more planning, the better. I confess I feel rather out of place in these sorts things, and any advice any of you have would be most welcome..."
He further nodded at Dalen's suggestions, a bit blankly. "Myrrh? Really? Well, all right, I'll try that."
"I feel as though I haven't been fair to you all. To some degree I have found myself constrained to the use use only certain sorts of magic, the kind suitable for stagecraft and for my own personal protection -- not that the latter haven't been of use for some of you. It would not do for someone in my position to be exposed as anything more than what the world sees me to be, as a somewhat affable, if dimwitted, entertainer. Too many people's livelihoods depend on the maintenance of that illusion for me to have risked it. But I cannot continue to put you all in jeopardy in the maintenance of that illusion. So I shall try to do better. In return, I am going to have to ask you to do your best to present me in that way to the outside world."
He lowered his voice, to be heard just at the table but hopefully no further among the cacophonous murmuring of the other restaurant-goers.
"If you would allow me, should time and preparation permit, I would ask that you allow me to convey the blessings of Saint Milani upon us. She will watch over us, if you can accept the righteousness of our cause into your heart for a moment. Should the enemy prevent us from our own preparations, I would ask that you not charge forth into battle unprotected. A moment's blessing, and perhaps Mr. Rittle you could prepare something similar as well? A moment's fore-preparation could make the difference. Aside from that, I don't wish to become a burden to you as I did in the basement yesterday; I'll do my best to not cause you to have to bargain for my life, and should you find yourself in that position with Gaedren Lamm's life on the opposite side of the scale, you have my full permission. But I would like to otherwise continue to assist you as I have, mainly in your defenses. That will require you to remain near enough me."
He stopped, taking a pause to nibble at a crumb of bread from his plate. "As for the bank... there's something I think we all should consider as a possibility, and investigate prior to the presumed event. Last night, some distance from the theater, Lamm and some of his men overwhelmed a group of citizens guarding a cache of weaponry, weaponry which my people had taken years to gather. Nothing fancy, swords and bows and such, but it was what we had.
"Now, consider this: the bank itself is heavily guarded, with all manner of protections rivaling that of any establishment in the city, yes? And at the first word that someone is making an attempt upon it, every guardsman in this city, every Hellknight, every bounty hunter, perhaps even most of the Crown's guards themselves, will descend upon the place like locusts. You know this, Lamm knows this. It's close to suicidal."
"What if it's just another diversion, such as that 'meeting' last night was? What if it's just a distraction, sending men -- heavily armed, dangerous men, but with no real hope of success -- to stir up the hornet's nest? We have seen that he can appear to be one place, and be at another. Why should he put himself in a position of great risk? He's a coward at heart. He wouldn't do that, unless he was sure he could succeed -- and why should he be sure of that?
"So, what's he actually up to?"Last edited by Stelio Kontos; 2020-11-26 at 03:30 PM.
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2020-11-29, 03:35 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jan 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Dalen listens intently to Aliani, "it is possible that the bank robbery is a diversion, but keep in mind that Lamm's boast was not meant for our ears, nor those of our patron. It was meant for the crime lords, men and women who would not be inclined to report his intent to the authorities. In any case, we hardly even know what his angle is for said robbery; it could easily be indirect subterfuge in nature. And do not underestimate Lamm's brazenness; he may be a coward, but his reading from Zellaria has changed his demeanor entirely. He has nothing to lose, and like a man deep in liquor this sheds all his inhibitions,"
He rubs his chin, "the weapon cache, though... that may or may not be intended for the bank heist, but it does open up an opportunity. Vreeg and his eye are likely underground and would be difficult to locate even with divination, but ordinary weapons? Well, that's another matter. If there is even a single weapon among that cache with distinctively markings, enough to uniquely identify it, we can perhaps attempt to find where they've been taken,"
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2020-12-04, 06:57 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Oct 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Spoiler: AlianiConfusion contorted the cat's chin and cheeks. He was fast to relieve this tension, but remained lost from Aliani's words until a few seconds in. It wasn't the idea that the actor could have rehearsed this between scripts or that he might've been so well spoken to have said all this without a page in front of him. Rather, he had been referring to his seeming polyamory. He assumed Nadine and Beautrice were not the first, but as the conversation continued he began to believe they were. It didn't matter anyway as Aliani spoke of a more interesting, perhaps more noble, topic.
"Aye?"
A few sounds of acknowledgement here and there for the lad. Silas had paid close attention, but the passion emanating from Aliani demanded it.
"I admit I've never had those feelings. Something similar, but I fear I have someone waiting for me whenever I... go."
He reacted as the name Milani fluttered into his ear. His eyes flashed with epiphany, but he quietly nodded and blinked his eyes into submission. The actor laid bare a portent. It worried Silas only because he was afraid the man might be given final curtain before act three.
"That is... certainly a possibility. You know, some days I like to think we are as if distant cousins. Brothers even. Not just you or I, but we five. Other days I am reminded that our heritage is so very different that I couldn't even begin to describe it. I don't believe I've ever even entered a church. Not a normal one, at least."
The outsider stopped at once, a sleepy thought fell from its' bed in the back of his mind. He gripped Aliani's arm, a look of concern encompassing his whole body.
"Are you okay? I don't believe I've asked you or any of us since we've met. I worry your recent experiences are - pardon my elvish - puk gaai. I know we've had our misunderstandings, but it's clear to me that you need a moment more than most. Aye, allow me to host your night once we've had our fill of chatter and clatter. Soft bed, calming oils. I even have my own bath. Best of all: silence. No dogs barking, usually. No arguments in the streets over who entered whom first. Some nights, if the conditions are just right, I hear nothing but the song of the sea. "
While a bit hyperbolic about the level of quiet in his neighbourhood, the slut hadn't considered the white noise of the inner city a welcome distraction like some did. His day-to-day life had always been so busy that the soothing sounds of South Shore were a welcome reminder that it was all temporary. If given the option of having music magically sound throughout his house, he'd rather the dull creek of wood and padding of his feet as he would travel room to room.
At The Griffin
Silas allowed himself to fall into the gentle hum of inhibition before contributing to the conversation. As he spoke, his finger fiddled with the metal band of his mug while he laid his head on his free hand.
"I admit any specific knowledge of teamwork that I have lies in another field of expertise, but I do agree with the lovable bully across from me. Well, both of you actually. More than form and fitness, we need to communicate what need be done. As Rosie over here said, a few prayers and maybe a magical brow-beating by our methodical magician before we rush in... I am rambling. Apologies."
The tiefling hacked air from his throat as if to clear his mind of fog. His fiddling and depressed appearance ran out as his chest returned to a rested bluff. He smoothed out his cheeks, preening at both sets of whiskers as he did so, curling them upward at the ends.
"Our enemies have, relative to us, siege weaponry. As you say, Jakkin, we need to better coordinate ourselves. Gavin, that is much better advice than I would have given. Certainly a credit to your training and mind. Luckily our individual skills have contributed to our success, little as it might feel some nights. I can contribute with ranged weaponry, but like as I tell my clients, I am much more impressive up close. I really must say thanks to all of your efforts. We are closer to finally jumping ahead of Lamm. The bank, the cache... do you have access to such magic, Dalen? It can't be cheap to assist us as you have been. I'll have to offer something to your shrine sooner than later, aye?"~ Piccadilly Pineapple
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2020-12-10, 11:33 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Dec 2012
- Gender
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Fierce approval lights Jakkin’s eyes as the others speak, from Gavin’s tactical analysis to Aliani’s explanation of how he can best aid the group through magics.
"Aye, if we focus on quickly bringing down our foes one at a time, we weaken them overall much more quickly," he agrees. "Even with someone else to hold some of their attention, I can place my blows to do much more damage," he growls through a smile, then takes a pull from his stout to savor the heavy drink.
"Since none of us are particularly adept at fighting from range," he goes on – not that there’s much room for such in the basements they seem destined to keep fighting in – "and we’ve been requested to stay close in any case, it seems we’re best served by wolf tactics. All keep close, surround a target, strike at it from many directions, keeping it distracted and supporting one another." With these tactics a pack of wolves can bring down a much larger bear; such things could serve them equally well.
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2020-12-12, 09:06 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jul 2017
- Location
- Illinois, USA
- Gender
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Spoiler: For SilasA blush of the tiefling's cheek was all Aliani really needed to reflect upon what the man had really been asking him about; it was a blush that was returned with interest.
"Oh! You meant, 'getting into their business!'
"I... I think rumors of my, well, they're greatly exaggerated. It's not that I'm not interested in such things, it's just... well, a quick story if you'll indulge me. Four years or so ago, just as things were starting to turn around for me, met a girl after a show, gorgeous, great cheekbones, neck like a swan, seemed really nice, she seemed really into me, I certainly was into her, a few dates later and we're back at her place, one thing led to another, and just as we're, you know, getting really into it, she's staring up at me, and she says out of nowhere 'Do the accent!"
"She wasn't into me at all, she was into the character from the show, you know? Well, what are you supposed to do with that?" he asked with a wry smile, waiting for a few seconds to give Silas half a chance to reply.
"Well, I did the accent. It was that or leave, it seemed like. Don't remember much of it after that. Point is, I've found it necessary to be careful about such matters. I'd really prefer not to, I guess, have the responsibility of worrying whether I'm about to disappoint someone, not have to worry about just who it is they think they find themselves infatuated with. That it's more than, for lack of a better word, transactional. Not that the physical sensations aren't quite pleasant, of course, but I think there ought to be more to it than that, for me at least."
At Silas's revelation about feelings of camaraderie, the little half-elf smiled again. "Of course, you do. Why else would we be together in this moment, disparate figures as we are? Mere coincidence? But I'm glad to hear you say it, nonetheless."
"And please, don't spend a moment worrying about me. If you must know? It's a lot of responsibility, and pressure, in all this. There are a great many people counting on us, and most of them don't even know it yet."
"As for churches... can't remember the last time I spent any time in one myself, aside from conducting business. They'd never let us have one, you know. Not as if we'd be preaching something socially acceptable, you know, like demon worshipping, or the social benefits of undeath and disease. They're just buildings, anyway. Giant posters made of stone and mortar, meant to put themselves up on a pedestal of their own make, to lure in the impressionable. All that really matters, is what you believe in your heart, and how you behave yourself."
"And that's very sweet of you to offer, Silas. I'll take a rain check, if that's quite all right." He accompanied that last with a quick squeeze of the hand before letting go.
At the tavern, Aliani pecked idly at the stew as the others spoke (it really was quite good; he'd have to remember to come back and enjoy it properly some day). "Would it help if we acquired a few fire bombs and such, Mr. Rittle and I, or all of us really? Or even a crossbow? I think if I tried to fill that void I'd be likely as not to hit one of you as one of them, though. At least the bomb thing worked well enough in the basement. I'd .. I fear that if I make myself one of the wolfpack, to borrow the phrase, we've proven that I'm just a liability. At the moment, at least. But something like that could soften them up for you, if you'd be able to stay your rush enough. Or make them inclined to come to us for a change. It's just a thought?"
"I think it might help, Mr. Rittle, if you and I acted to coordinate, if we're out of the fray it might be easier to assess the situation from the back lines? Choose the right targets, you might have stashed in that brain of yours things we might not know about vulnerabilities and so forth, keep an eye out for unexpected events. That way they can worry completely about what's right in front of them. If you think you'd be suited for it, that is. I could try, but I feel as though you're more likely to have a good grasp on that sort of thing."
"As for the stolen weapons, I'm afraid I don't rightly know what they look like. It's not something I've seen myself. We take whatever donations we can get, whatever we can buy or salvage. It's usually pretty nondescript, blacksmith rejects and such. I could ask, if you want me to?"
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2020-12-12, 11:11 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Oct 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Spoiler: Aliani"Yes, the 'accent'! I will say, it is very effective to know several of the more sultry languages. Infernal for roleplay, and Sylvan for massage... you understand my need for it."
Silas listened for the remainder of Aliani's talk.
"Well, I promise whenever you decide to take me up on it, I'll ask you to not use 'the accent' lest I lose control and throw myself at you."~ Piccadilly Pineapple
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2020-12-16, 04:42 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jan 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Dalen nods at Aliani, "I doubt a crossbow would be of much use; too heavy and cumbersome for something little more effective than a cantrip. Now, alchemist's fire could prove useful if used sparingly at the right moment, but we already know that creature Odion appears to be impervious to flames. If we could find some, Liquid Ice might be useful for this purpose, but be warned it's rather pricey,"
He nods when he hears about the weapons, "yes, I'd say it is worth asking the next time you meet with your contacts. You'll never find opportunities if you don't look for them,"
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2020-12-19, 09:32 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jul 2007
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
THEChanger
Earlier
Having seen how serious you appear to be about whatever revelations you were about to make, Kroft motions for you to follow her up to her office to speak in private. She is not disappointed, listening with mounting disbelief as you reveal one shocking revelation after another. By the time you are finished with the reveal that Andaisin was a worshipper of Urgathoa, Kroft was simply starring blankly at you, mouth slightly agape. Your collapse into the chair across from her desk seems to stir her out of her stunned state, and she shakes her head with a wistful smile.
“This isn’t some sort of nightmare right now, is it? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve had nightmares along similar lines as this.”
The Field Marshall of Korvosa sighs and rubs at her still-bloodshot eyes.
“As you know, the Bank of Abadar manages its own security, and they’re very proud of the fact that no one has successfully robbed them in their entire history. As far as I can tell, they have a right to be proud of their security, but these are not ordinary times and it seems Gaedren Lamm is not an ordinary thief. I am duty-bound to reveal this potential threat to the Bank of Abadar, although I suspect my word will be enough to convince them to tighten their security. If they ask for it, I’ll have to provide them with a contingent of guardsmen, or there will be hell to pay if anything happens and it appeared as if the City Guard stood idly by. Regardless of whether we’re currently undermanned right now or not . . . which could easily be what Lamm is going for.”
Kroft shakes her head and gives a bitter laugh.
“If he manages to surprise us, the Abadarians scream bloody murder and demand I send a contingent of guards to investigate, while he does whatever he wants elsewhere. If word got leaked out by some crime lord hoping to curry a bit of favor, I still have to devote precious resources to protecting an institution that is perfectly capable of protecting itself, and again he gets to do what he wants elsewhere. There is no way that I can avoid this snare, even with it being glaringly obvious right in front of my feet. But I suppose Lamm might be the least of my worries right now.”
Kroft grimaces and shuffles some papers from her still overflowing desk.
“I’m not sure what the Guard can do about either of the other two problems you’ve brought to light. The thought of another Order of Hellknights in the city with even less oversight is quite chilling to me, although they have shown considerable restraint thus far, given that they left the Cerulean Society members for us to find and arrest rather than staple their corpses to the side of the Amphitheater as a warning. You are more familiar with this world than I am, Gavin – er, Ser Dimir . . . what do you think their motives are in acting so openly now? How would you suggest the Guard handle this if there are more sightings? If you can give me a description of these other Hellknights I might be able to instruct my guardsmen to keep an eye out but keep their distance. I suppose with Blackjack running around again now, one more group of vigilantes won’t make that much of a difference.”
Kroft sighs, and after another moment seems to give up on attempting to organize her desk as she throws the papers back down onto the covered surface before rubbing her eyes again.
“And I have no idea what to do about Ambassador Andaisin. There’s nothing really I can do, regardless of whether this accusation that she is an Urgathoan is true or not – not that I’m doubting any of you. It’s a political matter who the city’s new seneschal is, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the Council of Nobles overcome their distaste for long enough to select even an Urgathoan if it suited them. On the other hand, from personal experience I can tell you that it’s rather hard for the Council of Nobles to overcome its distaste for anything.”
A shadow falls across Kroft’s face as her gaze drifts off to the corner as her mind drifts back into the past, then after a few moments she shakes herself back to the present and again sighs before standing up.
“Well, enough about all these things that I can do nothing about. There is another worrying matter that’s come to my attention as of a few days ago, and as I said earlier it involves a body. Two days after the riots, one of my guardsmen was on patrol surveying the damage that the riots had done in Midtown. She found a body strung-up in an alleyway, clearly left there to be discovered. When I first heard about this, I was initially worried that it might be the Key-Lock Killer announcing his own return, or some sort of copycat . . . but I think this is something else. Given the way things are going, probably something worse, which is why I was hoping you and your crack team of investigators might give it a look.”
Kroft favors you with a wry smile as she moves over to the door, beckoning for you to follow.
Theme Music (Until 2:50. After that the music is the theme of the one responsible for this. )
“We have the body preserved down in the basement for further investigation when we can spare the manpower. Unfortunately, the poor girl has been mutilated, so we’ve been unable to identify her nor request a Speak with Dead spell from the Abadarians. Some guardsmen have reported seeing someone matching her rough description before in Midtown, down around the docks, suggesting she was either a dock worker or a prostitute. Given the number of defensive wounds she has, she must have put up one hell of a fight before the end, whoever she was.”
Kroft explains as she leads you down into the depths of Citadel Volyshenek. At the top of the stairs leading down into the basement, she pauses to pick up a lantern and light it, and then leads the way down into the gloom, her tone growing quieter and darker to match.
“Whoever murdered her must have had access to healing magic, because it’s implausible that she would have otherwise survived all the additional injuries that were inflicted after she went down. Our medical examination concluded that ultimately however, she suffocated to death, likely due to the wasps that we found packed into her sewn-shut mouth. Someone went to a great deal of effort to give this woman a torturous death, and I want this person found.”
Kroft pauses at the door to a storage room, digging around in her pockets for the key.
“We’ve had to turn a couple of the rooms down here into morgues, until the bodies can all be sent to the Grey District for burial, but I decided it prudent to keep this woman’s body separate from the others. I will warn you to prepare yourself before going in – despite my descriptions, the actual sight of these injuries is quite disturbing.”
Kroft unlocks the door and pushes it open, stepping into the room and swinging the lantern out further into the room to light your way. Lying in the tranquil peace of death on a makeshift bed of crates in the center of the room, half-lit by Kroft’s lantern is the aforementioned body. Both of you approach it together, and with each step more of the horror is illuminated by the approaching lantern. But perhaps the most chilling thing about the body is not the injuries criss-crossing up and down all over it, but the fact that you recognize who it once belonged to. Another otherworldly shock passes through your mind as information is whispered into it that you could not possibly know. But the corpse’s face, despite its missing right eye, is unmistakably Carla.
Carla Zvastri. A brave and forthright woman who had not been afraid to get her hands dirty or her knuckles bloody doing what had to be done. In this other world, she had fought alongside you . . .and the others . . . to bring down Gaedren Lamm. Now here she was dead, brought to a horrific end – was this merely how her story ended in this world? Or was there some connection here to your own strange memories, a greater purpose at play?
Kroft doesn’t seem to notice the discomfort brought on by your newest surge of memories, or perhaps she merely thinks it an expected reaction to seeing the full state of the body. She gives you a few more moments of silence before directing your attention to Carla’s left collar bone by pointing at it with her finger – or rather, at the crudely-drawn figure cut into the skin there. It appears to be some sort of three-headed beast, although you have no idea what it could represent (i.e. Gavin does not have the correct Knowledge skills for identification. It’s possible someone with Knowledge Arcana could identify it, although at a sizable penalty from him attempting to describe someone else’s stick figure drawing of the real thing.)
“We believe that is the killer’s signature, although we’ve never seen its likeness before now. Could be she was the killer’s first victim, or merely the first one he felt confident enough to present to us and mark in this fashion. Other than that, there are only two other things we found that might help us find the killer.”
Kroft’s finger shifts from the woman’s collarbone to a spot on the crate next to her head, where a slip of paper and an empty glass vial sit.
“Before it was washed away, we wrote down what was written in blood – presumably her own - on the wall of the alleyway. It seemed as if she was posed to look at it in her final moments. It read - “Can you hear the Screams?”
Kroft’s finger wavers back to Carla’s face, pointing at the dark stain still running down her face from her intact eye. Despite most of the blood having been cleaned away at some point, the familiar stained trail of black blood was unmistakable.
“We also believe, just prior to her death, she ingested a vial of Shudder. Unfortunately, it seems she either suffocated before she could use the newfound powers to save herself, or it just didn’t work for her for some reason – we still don’t understand how Lamm’s new drug actually works, or if it even works for everyone. Why the killer would want to take that risk in the first place is beyond me, but given the drug’s expense and your own investigation into Lamm perhaps you’ll find a connection there to explain this.”
**************************************************
Despite her formidable reputation and the lack of progress you have to report, Vox does not seem in the least bit troubled or angry. Instead, she simply keeps the same bemused half-smile that she started with, right about the time she threw that dagger past your head and you flinched. It was extremely unsettling, but what followed was probably worse.
“Very good, Armiger Dimir! You’ve brought back the most salacious gossip I’ve heard in quite some time! I’m sure the nobles here and back in Cheliax will be quite distressed to learn the good ambassador fondles corpses in her spare time. The Order, however, is above such petty concerns. Her Imperial Magistrix Abrogail Thrune appointed Andaisin to the position of ambassador, and until such time as Her Imperial Magistrix deems her unfit, in that position she shall remain without interference from us. Unless, of course, you find evidence that she is plotting against the Order. Then we murder her without hesitation or restraint.”
The Order’s Mistress of Blades gives you with a full toothy grin at that last statement, and there is no doubt in your mind that it was an empty threat. Her smile abruptly fades, however, and she returns to that vaguely bored expression as she motions for you to continue.
“Was there anything else you’ve managed to discover that is more pertinent to your mission, armiger?”
Vox actually threw back her head and gave an actual cackle of glee at the news regarding Lamm’s plans to rob the bank of Abadar.
“How bold and stupid in equal measure! I almost want to sit back and see if Lamm can manage to pull this off, but that would be wasting a priceless opportunity to crush this rebel once and for all. Although our numbers in the city are currently limited thanks to that damnable whore queen’s orders to send us off on a wild goose chase out of the city, I still should be able to pull together a contingent for when Lamm strikes. And when he does, the Order will be there waiting for him! Well done, armiger, you’ve provided me with a useful piece of information along with a laugh for today. You may go now.”
You waste no time in taking the Mistress of Blades up on her offer, but you’ve merely reached the door when she calls out again.
“Hold, armiger. I almost forgot to ask in the midst of your amusing report, but as part of my duties I am responsible for ensuring that all members of the Order are properly equipped. Come back here, and let me see if Maralictor Vulso did his job in ensuring you are ready to hunt one of our own.”
Having no way to refuse, you obediently return back to the center of the room, pulling back your cloak to show your rapier and armor to Vox, and turning around slowly in a circle for her, while she looks you up and down, getting up from her desk at one point to check the fabric of your cloak with her fingers – and examine the fingers of your own hands for some reason. Finally satisfied, she grunts and returns to her desk, angrily snatching up a piece of paper and scribbling out a quick note.
“It would seem the Maralictor did the bare minimum to ensure you are properly equipped, Armiger Dimir. Your blade and armor should serve you well enough, but you are hunting a disgraced member of the Order, not some pathetic bandit – you will need more than that if you are to be successful. Take this requisition down to the Quartermaster’s office, and if they give you any guff, remind them whose signature is on this.”
Vox thrusts the note out for you to take, smirking as she looks you up and down one last time.
“Perhaps we’ll be able to make a proper Hellknight out of you yet, Armiger Dimir. In any case, with Maralictor Vulso out on patrol for the foreseeable future, you will be reporting directly to me. I look forward to your next report, hopefully with more progress.”
The Mistress of Blades licks her lips as she leans back into her chair and puts her finely toned legs back up onto the table, dismissing you at last with a little “run along now” wave of her hand. Glancing down at the note as you leave, you see that you are to outfitted with a ring of protection +1 and a cloak of resistance +1. You aren’t entirely sure, but you are also left with the distinct impression that you have caught the Mistress of Blades’ eye, possibly in more ways than one. And that was a truly terrifying thought.
**********************************
Spoiler: Another Place
The paladin gives a slight start, and then pushes himself up to his feet. As he turns, he sweeps an arm up to pull off his helmet, and you can immediately see that it’s not Mordin, but some other young man – which effectively already answers your question. Which doesn’t make much sense at first, as this is unquestionably the armor that Mordin wore, right down to the chip missing in the edge of the right shoulder pauldron.
“Sorry, friend. My name is Jasper. Ser Jasper Corvanthor of the Church of Sarenrae. Is there something I can help you with, Mr . . .?”
Jasper . . . there was a vague shiver of memory in the back of your mind at that name. Ah, yes . . . Mordin had mentioned a Jasper before, some sort of guardian spirit watching over him. Perhaps this was that same Jasper, not some spirit but an actual person, and the previous owner of Mordin’s armor. Which left the question of where Mordin was then, but was there even a Mordin? Were these even memories, or some sort of insane delusion that you have developed, seeing old allies in everyone you have met over the past several days?
“Are you alright, friend? You seem rather pale. Perhaps you had better sit down for a moment.”
Jasper offers, holding out a hand to steady you if needed over to a nearby set of raised steps that could serve as an uncomfortable but serviceable seat.
Captain Jak
“If I had to put a bolt in the head of everyone curious about me, I’d have no spare time to actually protect this city.”
Blackjack growled, although there was a raspy chuckle at the end to show it was meant as a joke. At your offered speculations about his motivations, however, the vigilante simply stares at you silently, his shadowed and masked face frustratingly offering nothing for denial or confirmation. Finally, after a long drawn-out silence, Blackjack speaks again.
“My reasons for going after Lamm should be obvious – he is a danger to the people of Korvosa, and Blackjack has always confronted such threats. But you are just seeing this as the actions of one man upon another, who has wronged who here. You need to expand your vision to consider Lamm the Organization, rather than Lamm the Man. Alone, there is only so much harm he can do – and while I regret not taking care of him before now, up to this point he was a middling criminal and drug peddler. And if I had to take down every middling criminal myself, I’d have no spare time to actually protect this city. But now all of a sudden Lamm is the head of a revolution, with the money and power to back his ambitions. Someone else gave him these resources and power, with perhaps a whole slew of middle-men in between to pass things along – an entire conspiracy against Korvosa. The one who organized all this, who turned Lamm into a weapon against Korvosa and its people – that is the one who I most wish to put a bolt in, but to do that I have to go through Lamm first. Even if I do have my suspicions of who is the spider at the center of this web.”
Blackjack waves a hand in the direction of Castle Korvosa.
“The next time you’re called to the palace to do our Queen’s dirty work, my friend, consider who would have the resources to equip Lamm and his men. Who has benefited the most from the death of our king, and the chaos that Lamm continues to inflict upon our city? But I suppose that is a concern for after her weapon has been dealt with. Which seems to be where our interests align, given we both seem to be after him now.”
Blackjack stiffly holds up a gloved hand while sliding his other hand slowly into his cloak.
“And since we seem to be working together against Lamm, I thought you might be able to make more use of this than me. You seem to prefer a more hands-on – feet too – approach than I do, but there are ways of enhancing the body just as much as a blade.”
Blackjack withdraws his hand to reveal a very strange-looking ball of thin chain that appeared to be made out of clear glass, which he tosses to you with an easy underhanded throw. As you catch it, you can feel the cold radiating out of the chain and you realize that the chain links are not made out of glass, but ice. Unwinding the ball of thin ice chain a bit, you can see that it’s actually a necklace, wrapped around a central medallion that seems to be a large sapphire with a Tian dragon etched into its surface.
“Got that a number of years ago from a Tian mercenary hired by a corrupt noble to kill me. He didn’t need it anymore, and it seemed like a waste to leave with his body for the city guard to find. Not sure if there’s anything more complicated to it, but it seemed to coat his limbs in a sheath of ice when he spoke the Tian word for “Rime”. Think you’ll be able to make use of it?”
(OOC: Jakkin has acquired an Amulet of Mighty Fists +1, which instead of applying +1 enhancement, will instead grant him the Frost enchantment, which can be activated to apply +1d6 Cold damage to his unarmed strikes by speaking the word “Rime” (and de-activated via the same command word). )
Stelio Kontos & PiccadillyPi
At the Castle
Trinia frowns in confusion at Aliani’s panicked outburst over her proposed trade.
“Hey, that’s not . . . what I meant . . . damnit!”
She grabs the playwright by the shoulder and cups her other hand around the back of his head, forcing him to look directly at her. Her grip is gentle, but there is definitely some strength in those slender arms as well.
“Listen to me, Mr. Rose. I am perfectly safe here. There’s no chokers up on the roof waiting for me to go to sleep so they can break in and eat me, and if anyone like Tark shows up here to kidnap me, Sabrina will cut them in half. Right?”
Trinia asks, her gaze flickering over Aliani’s shoulder to Sabrina, who shrugs non-committedly.
“Never cut a man in half before, but I suppose I could give it a try.”
“Right. So I’m safe in here. But it’s not safe out there, and you’ve got to help more people like me, right? This is all I’ve got to offer you for help, and as thanks for saving my life. Silas is too big, Jakkin is too small, and I don’t think Dalen likes to wear armor, so it’s got to be you that wears it. Hopefully it won’t be too loose on you in places, but it was pretty snug on me up front so I think –“
“If it’s magical armor, it should resize to properly fit its wearer.”
Sabrina blurts out, again drawing Trinia’s attention away from Aliani’s face as she blinks in surprise before bursting out into a melodious giggle.
“Oh, heeheehee, well then it should be fine! Whoever needs it most can wear it, if you don’t want it Mr. Rose. Just so long as one of you is wearing it, I’ll feel . . . well, like I’m helping protect one of you.”
Trinia releases Aliani and steps back, seeming to realize now that she may have overstepped her bounds in her frustration. Subdued, she takes possession of Aliani’s wine bottle and turns away to set it down next to an easel while muttering.
“Anyway, I just don’t want anything bad to happen to any of you out there . . . that’s all.”
Over in the corner, Sabrina loudly clears her throat.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting here, and despite recent events to the contrary, but I do feel like it’s important to point out that she is a personal guest of Queen Ileosa, and is now living here in the castle itself. Her Majesty has furthermore requested that I consider Miss Sabor’s safety as second only to her own. I give you my personal assurance that she is perfectly safe here . . . certainly safer than she was in that bumbling oaf’s care, anyway . . . “
Sabrina trails off in a low growl, making no secret of her apparent distaste for Vencarlo Orsini.
Everyone
The dinner goes well and without interruption, as you celebrate recent victories and make plans for the future. Lamm is still out there, and it seems he has tied himself to some very strange and dark forces indeed. Whether his next plan to rob the Bank of Abadar the day after tomorrow is legitimate or merely a feint for an even bigger strike, only the future and further investigation will be able to reveal. And what of this cache of weapons he had stolen from Aliani’s friends – what was his plan for those?
But as the meal begins to wind down, those thoughts are pushed aside for more immediate concerns as the sound of shouting begins to grow louder and louder outside. A few of the present dinners get up from their tables to go outside to investigate, most of them not returning, while the remainder simply continue eating and trying to ignore whatever was going outside. It becomes considerably more difficult to do that when a few minutes later the front doors open to re-admit several dinners, all of them working together to carry one of their number who was bleeding quite profusely from a head wound. Several of the Griffin’s staff rush over to assist these efforts, while the front doors are left open to allow the sounds outside to filter in at full volume. And they are very familiar sounds of building anger, stoked by one voice rising above the din to drive tempers even higher.
“And I say to you, dear friends, it is true our beloved King Eodred brought us decades of stability, peace, and prosperity! But if he made any one mistake during his long reign, it was picking one random whore out of his large harem and elevating her to sit beside him! And now that he’s gone, those fools that call themselves the “Council of Nobles” have capitalized on that mistake by elevating that same whore above us all! To be our new sovereign! Why!? What do you think she will bring us, dear friends!?”I didn't actually intend to kill EVERYONE. It just sort of happened.
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2020-12-20, 05:36 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jan 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Dalen rises to his feet, "Gentlemen, I do believe an opportunity to interrogate one of Lamm's goons has just fallen into our lap. Shall we go and take stock of the situation?" there's a brief flicker in Dalen's eyes as he takes mental stock of his full arsenal of prepared spells. He deftly weaves the incantations of one of those spells before tapping his leather belt. His cloak billows slightly as a thin membrane of force materializes underneath it. He drops a few coins on the table to cover his share of the meal before striding towards the door. As he passes through, he slinks into the shadows of the street to better survey the situation without drawing attention to himself.
Spoiler: OOC
Dalen casts Mage Armor on himself.
Stealth check: (1d20+6)[16]
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2020-12-20, 11:35 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Dec 2012
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Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
A Hand of Twenty-One
Jakkin regards the vigilante steadily as the chill from the icy chain slowly sinks into his hand, considering. Yes, the man’s motivations arguably make sense as he posits them—but they don’t account for the gap in years. Well, yes, the man simple could have retired and come out of retirement once Lamm’s threat increased, but it still begs the question as to why he stopped confronting the threats to Korvosa, as Blackjack himself put it, in the first place.
Still; the man has professed his motivations, for now.
"I can’t say as I agree with your conclusions," he replies, taking a moment to glance over the unexpected gift he now holds. "Your logic holds up, more or less, but I’ve spent time with the girl, both under the attention of the nobles and when she’s free to pretend she’s not a queen." Perhaps a bit dangerous to say, but it is doubtful that Blackjack will presume he means actually pretending in the way she has been.
"If she’s not both in over her head much of the time and someone with a personal hate for Lamm, then she’s hands down the best damn actor I’ve ever seen." Which, of course, is possible, but he’d like to think he’d have seen some sort of signs to make him suspicious before now were that the case.
"Regardless, I could be wrong, so I’ll be keeping an extra close eye on her with that in mind," he concedes; he’s not quite so full of hubris that he wouldn’t acknowledge that Blackjack might actually have a point. "Now, I do have one last question for you, if I may be so bold." Holding up the amulet, he glances from it, to the shadowy vigilante.
"Didja happen to be knowing what that Tian word for rime be?" he inquires dryly.
The Felin Fach Griffin
More than willing to have a word with the raconteur working up the crowd outside, Jakkin too hops down from his chair and hurries across the floor of the Griffin. Slipping out unseen into the evening is child’s play for him, and working his way through the crowd will be scarcely more difficult.
It is, indeed, convenient when opportunities decided to drop themselves right in their laps, as rare as that is....
Spoiler: OOC:Taking 10 on Stealth: 28
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2020-12-26, 03:41 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jul 2017
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- Illinois, USA
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Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Back at the Castle
Aliani felt the little goosebumps on his neck as Trinia grasped him; he sent out a silent prayer that she wouldn't immediately notice.
"I didn't mean to -- it's just --- oh, good heavens, it's magical too? How can you possibly..." But there wasn't any use in arguing it, it was just that... no, there wasn't any use in arguing it, or indeed doing anything else but putting on his best smile.
"I'll do my best to put it to good use, as little as possible" he smiled deprecatingly. "And, when things are back to normal, and you are out of here and have a new home in a lovely choker-free place, I'll give it back. Deal?"
He didn't really wait for an answer, reaching up to awkwardly unclasp the simple leathers he'd been wearing. Ornate though the piece was, it really wasn't much in the way of proper protection, he had to admit. He slipped on the new armor, feeling it wriggle and adjust to his form -- a definite sucking sensation in the upper chest area, and a slight yet highly disappointing expansion in the midriff. A quick shake of his sleeves later, and the armor seemed to disappear behind the shirt he was wearing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the Griffin
A quick glance at the wounded man was reassuring. A cut, to be sure, and it was probably going to bleed for a good while given the location just above the eyebrow, but he seemed alert and had more than enough help. Probably just a glancing blow?
"Well, keep your eyes open" he said to his companions as he strode toward the door. "I'm about to make either a fool or a target of myself."
"You make a fine point: she is naive, and weak, and inexperienced, and likely enough to fall under the sway of the nobles, to do their bidding -- but what do you offer in return?" Aliani shouted back from the back of the crowd, his voice projecting through the commotion. "A new master to snatch at the yoke of servitude around our necks? A new master -- who will steal from us, and murder all those who oppose him, as he has all his life? A new master who seeks nothing but the same power for himself that has already been used against us all our lives?"
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2020-12-27, 02:10 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jan 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Dalen's eyes widen at Aliani's lack of subtlety, but it's a suitable distraction to allow him to move to a more discreet vantage unnoticed. He just hopes that Aliani won't scare off whoever is crying for Lamm; they need to capture this individual.
Last edited by Darvin; 2020-12-27 at 02:12 AM.
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2020-12-28, 09:56 AM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Oct 2017
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Earlier
Silas tittered to himself as Trinia mentioned him being too large for the armor only to silence himself just as Sabrina's eyes shifted his way. He thought it better to not annoy the woman weighing the possibility of her cutting a man in half.
At the Griffin
Silas left his seat, standing with enough abruptness for the chair to catch on the floor's grains, tipping over in a loud clatter. He roughly rubbed his face in frustration with both hands, groaning as he did so, and grooming just after to resolve new unruly hair and whiskers. The querulous racket outside left him fatigued as his spirit was more inured to spirits than spirited simpletons. Once he replaced the chair and paid for his wine, he left to lean just outside the doorway near Aliani paying no mind to the bleeding man as he did so. Either stealth was too bothersome this particular evening for the cat or he was feeling maledroit after drinking on an empty stomach. Regardless, Silas never attempted to step nor speak softly.
"Yeah! Why should we listen to a noisome gadfly that speaks ill of one of us? That would think to hoodwink us! No doubt lost your innocence to a rotted fig! Yes, the king is passed! But do we wish our futures determined by another noble born and kept behind marbled walls? Perhaps you wish to see the criminal kings take control as they continue to bleed us with wild abandon as they have been doing for countless decades? Stability indeed! Or do we follow our desire to see what it takes for a person experienced in commonry to occupy the throne? Perchance unbind our necks and our purses from the charlatans and snollygosters hurting our Korvosa! The greatest nation of immigrants this world has ever seen! She is one of us! A queen of the people!"
As he spoke, he scanned the audience for any acquaintances, friends, or clients - past or present - to potentially call for example.~ Piccadilly Pineapple
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2020-12-29, 11:42 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Sep 2010
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
Earlier
“I wouldn't expect there to be anything you could do about Andasain.” Gavin smiled ruefully as he pushed himself out of the chair. “Just, political upheavals are always difficult. I figured you'd be better off with some forewarning, than to be caught off guard in an hour or five when the riots...well, normally this would be a thing that started riots, but that's not really a change from where we are now, is it?”
Gavin described the uniform of the Order of the Eye as best he could. “Honestly? My advice would be to stay out of their way as much as possible. The ones we came up against last night seemed to be outfitted for non-lethal combat, but their commander also showed no respect for normal Order protocol. I get the sense they have even less restrictions than the Order of the Nail does. Why they're choosing now to step out of the shadows I couldn't tell you. The stories I've heard about them made them out to be watchers of the other Orders, making sure we stayed in line. I can only guess they view Gaedren Lamm as such a threat to the order and safety of the city that their hand has been forced. I would love to know more about what's going on there, but unfortunately there are more pressing matters. Speaking of which, tell me about this body...”
As the two entered the morgue, Gavin felt his mind spin and his stomach heave. Hells Below, what did they do to you Carla? Despite not knowing this woman, despite the trepidation he regarded anything to do with his visions of that other life, Gavin felt some kind of emotional connection to the corpse on the table. Something raw and bloody screamed inside him, screamed that this was wrong, that this wasn't how things were supposed to be. The Hellknight in training shook his head roughly, trying to clear his thoughts, and went to examine the corpse of a woman who should have been his friend.
“I wish I could be of more help here and now, Field Marshall. I've never seen anything quite like this. I'll rope in the others chosen by the Crown, see if one of them knows what this symbol could be referring to at the very least. We'll do our best to bring down whatever monster did this, you have my word.”
As Gavin went to leave, he hesitated at the door. “This is probably nothing. A flight of fancy. She looks vaguely familiar to me. Maybe someone I met shortly after Longacre, or while I was...well. The name Carla Zvastri comes to mind. Might be a place to start.”
The Tower
Gavin froze as Lady Vox approached him, every muscle in his body fighting the desperate desire to run. Instead, the armiger remained stock still at attention, his hands clammy as the Mistress of Blades examined him. His heart stopped for a moment when she touched his cloak, and then went into an unhealthily rapid beat when she touched his hand. A hand that trembled slightly as he took the missive from her. Gavin gave a low bow as she dismissed him, still not speaking a word.
It wasn't until he had left the Quartermaster's office, new cloak and ring in hand, when the meaning of Lady Vox's last words sunk in. He was directly reporting to her now.
Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitda mnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamn itdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnit damnitdamnitdamnitdamnit
Spoiler: A Time, A Place
Gavin shrunk back slightly from the outstretched hand, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “My apologies, Ser Corvanthor. I have found myself confused the past few days, seeing familiar faces where no familiarity is. I....” Gavin looked around the Pantheon, until his eyes settled on the graven image of Desna. He whispered, almost more to himself than to the paladin. “Do you ever feel, Ser, as though you are living a life that is not yours? Walking a path that you should not have started on? I thought I had finally found the place I was meant to be, but of late I find myself...confused.” Gavin scuffed the floor gently with his boot, unsure if the frustration he felt was from speaking such thoughts aloud, or that he was not better able to articulate what he was feeling.
At the Griffin
Gavin sighed, and slowly pulled himself from the table to join the others outside. Can I not even have one night where nothing terrible happens? I feel as though that is not much to ask.
Standing close by Aliani and Silas, Gavin stayed silent, letting his hand rest on his rapier. The other two were more adept at speaking persuasively and kindly than he was – he would wait until things became ugly before speaking his mind.ATTENTION ANYONE WHO I'M PLAYING WITH:
No news is good news.
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2021-01-03, 11:16 PM (ISO 8601)
- Join Date
- Jul 2007
Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
THEChanger
Earlier
Spoiler: Elsewhere
The young paladin gives you an awkward grin as he gestures to a nearby set of stairs.
“Please, call me Jasper friend. Why don’t we sit down over here for a moment? You seem like someone who has a lot on their mind, and could use a chance to sort it out with someone else.”
Jasper then leans over to you and speaks much more quietly, just above a whisper.
“You’re also not the first person to speak of such things to me. The other day in the market, I nearly got into a fight with another man. But before I could even draw my sword the man called out my name, dropped his weapon, and ran off. I know that I had never seen his face before that day, yet he clearly recognized mine. At least, I don’t think I have ever seen his face, and yet he was oddly familiar to me as well. I have been feeling out of sorts ever since then – as if I don’t belong here. Isn’t that strange?”
The paladin walks away over to the steps, gently easing himself down onto the them while pushing his scabbard off to one side so that it does not scrape against the stone.
“I would love to talk to you about it, if you have time, Sir . . . ?”
Captain Jak
Blackjack sighs, grumbling as he idly flexes one hand in front of his masked face.
“I suppose of the two of us, you have been closer to her. Even still, it is the nature of nobles to appear friendly and harmless until they have the dagger firmly against your back. Watch her carefully, and watch your own back, my young friend. Either she is the best actress you have ever seen, or yet another hidden force is using her as their pawn even now. There is something not right about all of this, and someone has arranged for this girl to be placed upon Korvosa’s crimson throne. She is still noble-born, and it will not be long I think before her true colors will reveal themselves to those paying attention. If she is not the puppetmaster, then she will dance along to their tune all the same.”
The vigilante gives a soft chuckle at your final question.
“Oh yes, I heard him pronounce the word before he attempts to shove an icicle-coated fist through my temple, and I made it a point to look it up later – “Muhyō”.”
Blackjack helps you through repeating the word several words, working on your enunciation of the syllables before the sapphire glows brightly in your hand, ice beginning to spread across your knuckles. You pronounce the command word again, and the sapphire’s glow dims, the ice stopping and rapidly beginning to shrink back in retreat. Blackjack nods in satisfaction and then produces a handcrossbow from underneath his cloak.
“It is time for me to go. I am sure that we will speak again, but if you find out anything new on either Lamm or our new queen that you wish to share ahead of our next meeting, you will need a way to contact me. There is a small toy shop in Midpoint, just off of Endrin Avenue – Giotorri’s Toys. One of the bricks in the wall across from the store front is loose – six bricks up from the road, and three to the right of the one directly across from the faded “G” in the store’s lettering. Best that you don’t leave a note – just some little token that I will identify as belonging to you. We will meet here the following evening. Think you can handle that?”
Without waiting for an answer, Blackjack fires the handcrossbow up into the darkness, leaving a thin wire trailing down from wherever the bolt lodged itself above. The vigilante flicks a lever on the side of the handcrossbow, and is immediately yanked up into the sky, disappearing into the darkness above. Seems this meeting with the infamous hero was over.
Everyone
The group steps outside to find that a large crowd has started to gather in the streets in front of the Felin Fach Griffin. You are all still on the outskirts of this crowd, however, as the nucleus is about two blocks away, near a small fountain that provides drinking water for the neighborhood. Standing on the rim of that fountain so that he can stand head and shoulders above the crowd and be seen is an impeccably dressed half-elven man, his thin moustache and goated trimmed in a style that went out of fashion about twenty years ago.
The soft crunch of someone biting into a juicy apple from somewhere above you directs your attention briefly upward, where you see a young woman with strawberry blond hair sitting on a nearby rooftop, enjoying an apple as she enjoys the show – suggesting that not every onlooker is watching this unfold from out on the streets. She gestures a greeting with the bitten apple in her hand at you, then returns her attention to the man on the fountain. Below her perch is a narrow dark alley that Dalen could dunk into to cast spells unseen by the crowd at large, although that would leave him rather far away from the fountain and the half-elven man (let’s go with around 100 feet, so Close/Short range is out, but medium & long range spells should still reach him from here).
While Dalen is figuring out how to discretely neutralize this agent of Lamm, if agent of Lamm he is, Aliani as usual calls attention to himself by shouting from the back of the growing crowd. All eyes turn to him at his shouted challenge, and the man shades his eyes with one hand as he peers all the way back to you.
“Who is that dissenting Queen’s man back there who wishes to voice a different opinion? Step forward, man, step forward! Let us all see your face as well as hear your voice! Lively debate is the best way to determine the truth, after all!”
The crowd, which seems slightly less agitated now and more curious where this was going, obediently parts to allow Aliani, Silas, and anyone else who wishes to follow access to the fountain and the waiting half-elf. With the challenge thrown down, there is little Aliani can do but accept or turn away to flee back inside the Griffin, so he certainly has to move forward to this diplomatic confrontation. As he grows near to the fountain, the half-elven man smiles and gives a mocking bow.
“Well, well, well, it really *is* the Queen’s lapdog, Mr. Aliani Rose, the infamous playwright! Hoping to make Her Majesty another one of your conquests, Mr. Rose – tsk tsk tsk. Although given her reputation, I suppose you will not have to work very hard for that.”
Laughter erupts from the crowd, although it dies out quickly as the man raises his hands for silence.
“Now now, my apologies Mr. Rose, for it is not my intent to impugn your reputation. You are certainly a well-respected member of Korvosa’s upper-class, and I am sure that you will do well in what is to come, regardless of who squats upon our city’s throne. However, not all of us are as well-off and able to weather the vulgarities of Fate that come our way. I speak for many of us here, I think, when I say that we are all proud citizens of Korvosa, and staunch supporters of King Eodred’s reign, which granted us all stability and opportunity, if nothing else. But King Eodred is gone now, and we do not know what the future holds. The Council of Nobles has seen fit to choose his wife to be our next sovereign, but her only qualifications to be our Queen seemed to be how nicely she filled out our King’s bed. Surely you can understand how that would make some of us nervous about what the future holds, and I see no harm in coming together to express those fears. I suppose I do have you at a disadvantage, Mr. Rose, so allow me to rectify that – I am Adonis Kreed, Esquire.”
Leaning down from the fountain, the half-elven man extends a hand to Aliani as he nears the fountain’s edge. He provides a firm but perfunctory handshake, and then if Aliani wishes to climb up onto the fountain’s rim to join him, Adonis maintains his grip to help pull Aliani up onto the fountain’s rim to stand beside him. Introductions done, the man turns away to address the crowd once more.
“In answer to your main question, however, I can only assume that this other party you refer to is Gaedren Lamm. Now, allow me to be clear to you Mr. Rose, and to everyone present – I speak not in favor of that odious man, nor to condone violent resistance against our government! I am a peaceful man at heart, and the sight of my beautiful homeland being stricken by the recent bloodshed sickens me to my very soul! But I ask you, Mr. Rose, caught between such two opposing forces as our unqualified queen and this murderous thug, what is the common man to do!? Indeed, what can we do against such forces when they are willing to stoop to such a heinous act as Regicide to accomplish their aims?”
A loud murmur sweeps through the crowd at this accusation, as it was still not as-yet common knowledge that King Eodred had been murdered, rather than simply fallen ill and died of natural causes. Adonis stokes the flames of that unease higher with his next words, as he unfolds a piece of paper from the right-side pocket of his vest.
“Yes, dear friends! Our beloved King did not pass gracefully from old age as we initially believed, but was cut down by someone he trusted! I have here from my sources an advance copy of tomorrow’s Korvosa Gazette, which on its front page covers the revelation that the City Guard knew about this! They have known for some time, and have been investigating it discreetly, or as well as they can given how rife with corruption and incompetence they are! And they have kept this vital information from us – nothing to see here, move along here, business as usual! But business is far from usual, Mr. Rose, when our very King can be poisoned to his death, betrayed by someone close to him, for who else could inflict such a death upon someone as well-protected as a king? Certainly not this thug of nightmares of yours, Gaedren Lamm, no! Someone within the palace itself, someone the king trusted, who was by his side, day after day, dripping the poison into his veins as well as his ears! And who do you think that was, Mr. Rose? It seems rather obvious, isn’t it?”
Waves of angry murmurs ripple through the crowd now, the shock of the news fading as Adonis focuses their anger on who could have done such the deed – all while leaving it unspoken but very clear who should be the focus of their anger.
“So what would you have us do now, Mr. Rose? One side seems to be as bad as the other, as murderous as the other! So who, then should we place our hope in? Who then, should we entrust our future to?”
The crowd's angry murmurs begin to die out as they all wait on what Aliani will say next - despite Adonis's attempt to whip them up into a frenzy, his cover-story of a mutual debate seems to have taken hold of the crowd, and they are now interested in what Aliani has to say in rebuttal. But their attitude is clearly resting on a knife's edge, and another riot could easily break out right here and now if the wrong word is said - only this time, Aliani at least will be right in the very center of it.
(OOC: Amusingly enough, Aliani and Adonis scored exactly a "25" each on swaying the crowd with their diplomacy checks, so things are indeed resting on a knife's edge at the moment.)Last edited by Inspectre; 2021-01-03 at 11:16 PM.
I didn't actually intend to kill EVERYONE. It just sort of happened.
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2021-01-04, 12:35 AM (ISO 8601)
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- Dec 2012
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Re: The Crimson Echo IC - Season Two
A Hand of Twenty-One
While still not in agreement with the vigilante’s assessment of the queen’s character, Jakkin isn’t so foolish as to totally disregard the possibility. He’ll keep an open mind and a wary eye on things; his own nature makes that an easy task to tend to.
Looping the entirely unexpected gift over his neck and tucking it beneath his mail shirt, he runs the instructions for leaving a message through his mind several times to ensure he won’t forget.
"A token?" he mutters as he departs the scene in a far more mundane manner. "What, I need me own bloody calling card, now?" Damn theatrical vigilantes….
The Felin Fach Griffin
Jakkin uses the back and forth banter between the two sides as an easy distraction as he slips effortlessly through the crowd that tower above him like a forest of so many ill-scented trees. Keeping an ear to the ‘show’ currently being performed, he concludes that this is a debate that likely won’t end well for anyone so involved. The crowd has been whipped into a state of excitement, and any sort of violence against this stuffed shirt – as satisfying as it would be – would cause more immediate problems than shutting him up would solve.
No – perhaps this situation needs the energy and attention to shift focus to something else entirely.
Slipping around to the backside of the fountain, it’s a simple enough matter for him to boost himself up onto it behind the arguing men. Folding a small blade out of his omni-tool, he hacks obviously at this ‘Kreed’s’ purse in the most distracting manner possible.
Even the most politically ardent tend to lose focus when their personal wealth is in jeopardy.
With a faint smile on his face, he turns and dives off the fountain, set on using the crowd to make pursuit of him as difficult as possible.
Spoiler: OOC:Taking 10 on Stealth: 28
Taking 10 on Climb: 21
Slight of Hand: 10