The Curse of the Crimson Throne (Inactive)

Game Master Aest

Gern had stood a little awe struck at meeting someone so highly placed in the city. IT was not something he had expected to cause him to freeze up in all honesty.

He had merely bowed again in deference when the queen had left, and followed mutely as the others debated the small chest and their options for the future.

Finally he spoke up. "Nay yer Ladyness. Sure as sure that yon town needs more folk as ye have standin' here doin nought but standing around." He too glanced at the guards when he said that.

"I reckon I can see us to the citadel withooot much trouble. Ye gae ahead and send yon shiny boys into tha streets to help keep honest folk safe, aye?"

A bit wary of dealing with people so high in power, Laijiri said nothing, just listening to the conversation for any hidden nuances that might have been implied, but not outright stated. This was a situation that was far above what she was used to, and did not want to make any missteps. Or, at least if there were any missteps, it was something that she would be able to catch. Given the state of the city, getting out was something that was likely preferable now, though if they had enough time, she could try and find out what else is going on in the citadel that they might need to be aware of.

It would be interesting.

Very well." Sabina turns to her guards, signalling them. "You four, do a patrol up to the bridges to Old Korvosa. Report to the Field Marshal when you've finished up. We don't need this many stationed in front of the castle." She turns to the party. "The Citadel is down the road toward High Bridge, overlooking the docks. The Field Marshal will be there, no doubt trying to manage this disaster. Do hurry." She steps inside the castle, leaving you in front of the guards, who bring back your weapons and hand them back out.

Gern quickly reset his weapons and slings his shield ready for the walk through the riotous town.

He grinned at his new companions then, feeling pretty good about the situation in general.

"Weel, that went better'n I expected me lads and lasses. We took care o' one rats nest, and seems as if we now have a chance to further the honour o' ooour clans by workin' ter protect folk against more ne'er do wells."

He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet once, stretching his muscles and allowing the weapons and armour to resit themselves more naturally. "Lets offsky then aye?"

Litsy took her weapons with pleasure, and waited merrily for the group to go.

At least we've got plenty of work ahead of us!

Kazadarin takes his weapons and quickly places them in their proper places and pauses when hi takes the dagger recovered from Lamm's dead hands. He slowly inspects it before sliding it into his belt. Lamm you old whore son, looks as if your life and actions are just remembered by your survivors and soon your memory will fade from our's. Think of that as the demons slowly devour you.

Giorgio resettles his gear into place with a smile. "Getting paid to save my home? I'm pretty comfortable with both of those notions, I must say. How many others have such an opportunity?" With that, he is ready to be off.

Unable to resist the response, Laijiri followed Giorgio's comment with a slight smile. "We could ask the soldiery..." An innocent expression was on her face soon after her response, the dagger going back into its sheath on her waist. She was really curious about what was in the box, though. It looked heavy. "Supplying before we leave might be a good idea?"

Kaxardarin grunts and shifts the box under his left arm. "New equipment would be nice. I would like to get some better armor and a new bow."

Gern looked at the heavy box and shrugged. "Why dinnae we open yon box and a take a looksee then?".

"Mayhap it's filled with gold and we can gooo shoppin' afore checkin' in with the law."

Inside the box are 12 gold bars, each stamped with the royal seal of Korvosa.

Do you want to RP shopping out, or just tell me what you all want?

I'm rich b*@~#! Beep beep!

Yep! We are! xD
Also, did Sabina just gave the heavy, full of gold bars box to a five feet tall, thin looking girl?... Knight's logic?

"You know what? Forget what I said before. I'm starting to like the Queen... A bit. She must have loved this brooch soooo damn much..."

Litsy looked at the gold bars in awe.

"What are we going to do with all that gold?"

Maybe we could get a healer's kit as we have none, and some healing potions (or wands)? Or improve our equipment? We migt have enough to get magical weapons, or better armors...

The journey to Citadel Volshynek takes the party down one of the main roads in Korvosa and past a statue of a knight in full plate standing on a beach. As the party approaches, an old man, the few strands of graying hair left on his head matted and clothed in a tattered, multicolored priest's cassock, stands from his place at the foot of the huge statue. "No beauty here, no! Only doom and darkness for Korvosa, anymore. The end times have arrived! *Koff Koff!* Yes! YES! The eye of Groetus! I see it now, turning its gaze from the Boneyard to this city, soon to be a yard of bones! Doom, Death, and Darkness inescapable!"

As he approaches, a series of coughs rack his body, and when he recovers, a long string of mucus hangs from his nose. He takes no notice, except to focus his gaze on Laijiri. "You! You see it, do you not? The eye, staring its doom upon our once-fair city? The king's death, and those of the rabble, they are but the first of many. The Eternal Rose has forsaken me, as she has forsaken this city, and only the end of the world remains, and the Harbinger of Last Days. Only the end for poor Sarias! Tell me! Tell me you see it! *Koff Koff Koff*"

As he approaches, he suddenly lunges forward, trying to cling to Laijiri's arms! He grasps them, bringing his face close to hers and screaming. "See! Sarias shows only the truth! The end has come to this place at last! See, girl!"

Grapple: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (17) - 2 = 15

Set upon by the raving individual, Laijiri clung to her staff as the old priest clung to her. Her eyes were wide as she did what she could to interpose her staff between the man and herself. Trying to placate the fallen priest, she yelled back at him, a bit unnerved. "Your ranting serves still! Gather yourself lest you find you have lost the Rose to serve the Moon! Get a hold of yourself, Elder! No doom comes unless you are their harbinger! Comport yourself, I have seen nothing yet but a warning."

She was not worried about her finery being ruined, but a troubled elder was something that her childhood had taught her to heed. Making sense of what he was saying came to her in a flash of insight from a source she could neither forget, nor get rid of. Struggling to remain upright in the man's grip, she barely could push him back.
___________________________
K.(Religion): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19 <--(Tireless Logic) K.(Religion): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

I had to cancel my previous post: my Sense Motive check was 12.

Litsy wasn't focused on anything, except release her friend from the elder's grip. She grabbed him by the shoulders, calmly, but firmly.

"Let her go, grandpa, please, and calm down. We can't understand what you are saying."

Trying to pull the old man so he'll release Laijiri... But I don't know what check I need to do .__.
Litsy will try to be diplomatic:

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

"Ah, girl! *Koff Koff Koff-koff-koff*" The elderly man looks at Litsy for just long enough to double over from another fit of coughing. This one knocks him to the ground, where he lies, catching his breath for a moment. "Girl, Sarias speaks to you of the end! The-*koff-koff-koff Koff*-the end of beauty like yours, the doom of this city, the dust after a final disaster! Woe is you, that you must live these final days, ere the eye looks over only ashes and dust!" He reaches out slowly to grasp at Litsy's leg.

While trying to carry the old man, Litsy barely managed not to fall.

I still can't truly understand you, apart from the "apocalypse is now" part... Oh please, don't die on me...

"Disaster? What is this disaster you're talking about, grandpa?"

Stay conscious! Talk to me!

She looked up for Giorgio and Aerodus with desperate eyes:

"Help? I think he needs some healing, he doesn't seem well at all... And a good bed. And maybe a shower."

Gern ignored the words of the old man, but moved in to drag him off his friends. He was not gentle, but he wasn't the old man either.

"Take yer words ta others oldster. We ha' business ter attend as needs seein' to right noooo. Worry about he far future when it's a weeeeee bit closer, ye ken?"

Gern will bodily lift and carry him away if its necessary. If one of the others asks him to be more gentle or help the old man to get somewhere specific, he'll frown in annoyance but do what's asked by his new friends.

Strength check 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9 or +4 if its CMB instead.

The old man makes no attempt to resist as Gern drags him away, instead expelling a series of coughs, many of them at the dwarf. "I speak of the fall of this city! I have seen it! I have seen..." When Gern lets him go, he sits on the ground, coughing, weeping, and occasionally shouting about the end of the world.

Kazadarin stands ready with his Han on the hilt of Lamm's dagger.

Gern looks at the man for a moment before speaking calmly to him. "Every time I ha' ta swing me axe someone sees the end o' world oldster. Every city falls, tis only a matter o' time. Dwarves know this on;y too well. Best not ter bide too much on it. Live fer the now, and let the gods seeto ther future."

He turns back to the group then, mildly concerned hat the man was ill and that he had coughed all over him, then he shrugged and prepared to move on again.

'Well, I'll have to see what tonight's reading holds', Laijiri thought to herself. At least her sister was taken care of. She was not too comfortable with leaving her in Korvosa with everything going on, but it was under the stipulation that she get enrolled in the academy immediately-- of course, knowing Wren, there was the distinct possibility that she might just offer Zavi a job doing something else.

Still, it beat taking her into a situation that she was uncertain of. If Raving priests were all that would be encountered, she would be lucky. They were walking in to more, and at the moment, she had no idea about how it was going to be dealt with. She was going to have to think of something, and that solution was going to have to be something that would allow her to avoid the greater harms.

Information was going to have to be what she used to circumvent the worst of the situations that they would be encountering.

Litsy looked at the old man hesitantly. His tears decided her to kneel down and talk to him:

"Hey... Please, don't cry. We heard you; you're not the first one warning us about... Chaos, destruction, and all that. Look, trying to warn people about those things that you see is fine, but it won't prevent the world from falling apart -if he must do so. Why don't you care take of yourself a little bit more? Doing things which make you happier? Do you live nearby?"

I hope he's got some reason left... What a sad, painful existence he has. Old, mad, sick as a dog, and still trying to warn people, never to be heard. It's horrible.

Kazadarin frowns as the others continue to deal with the crazy sick man. The ranger continues to watch the old man in case he lashes out at his companions again.

"I live nowhere. Nowhere! The Rose has abandoned Sarian, and so he lives nowhere and everywhere at once." The man hacks up a glob of phlegm, blood, and bile, spitting it into the cobbles.

A pair of guards approach you as you talk to him. "Sarias bothering you? Bastard's mad. Totally mad. From his robes, he looks like a Shelynite, so we've taken him back there three times. Keeps coming back here, and with all the madness in the city, he's the least of our problems. You'd best move along before you sicken like him." The old man shoots them a glare.

"Sane or mad, he's a poor, sick, old guy who shouldn't be living on the streets in his state... He isn't a bother. You prefer returning to the temple, or sleeping in an inn," she asked the old man.

Kazadarin shakes his hand and lightly places his hand on Tony's shoulder. "We can not save all the homeless we find my friend."

The young ranger takes the old mans hand and places two gold prices from his belt in it. "Here you go old timer, now go find something to take the chill off."

*grin* I wish someone would hand me a year's pay...

Laijiri looked at the guard curiously. "Sicken? Sarias is not the only one with a condition like this?" A raving elder was manageable. Something that caused this being contagious was something that worried her. There were stories that she had heard about entire towns dying and other horrible things. She could not help but be worried about the coming days, especially if the guard confirmed that Sarias was not the only one acting like this.

The guard looks at Laijiri, confused. After a moment, his face clears up. "Oh, no. At least, this condition isn't unusual among his kind. Empties and pinchers, just a waste of space. They can't keep a job, can't keep a home, so they end up in the streets. Get all kinds of nasty diseases from sleeping with rats. We'd be best to get rid of them all, but who's going t'give the order?" The talking guard spits into the street before moving off down one of the side-streets.

Sarias snatches the coins as Kazaradin hands them to him. He gets shakily to his feet and totters off in the direction you came, shouting and moaning about the end of the world as he goes.

The rest of the journey to Citadel Volshynek goes quietly, although a patrol of Hellknights tail the party the entire way there, only peeling off when it's clear party is entering the citadel itself. A pair of guards stand near an open postern door near the main gate, which is shut. They quickly wave the party inside, and one leads you through a packed-dirt courtyard where two patrols are forming up and into the central keep, where a tired looking woman in parade armor is explaining to a group of guards their mission. "...and yes, I do want you to patrol the whole of Old Korvosa. That means the hill, Orisini's school, the waterfront, and Eel's End, but for the Vault's sake, just talk to the guards there! We don't need another incident like Thomason last month." As the group of guardsmen and women file out of the woman's office, she collapses into her chair. "Alright, who's next? Get in here so I can give you your assignments." She pauses, struggling and failing to stifle a yawn, and blinks a few times on looking at you. "Oh, you're not in uniforms. You must be the irregulars the queen promised. You're here, you've got weapons. You'll do.

Now, listen, you've been on the streets. You know the situation out there, probably better than I do. If you're willing, I'd like to put you all on retainer as agents of the Guard. Of course, we'll compensate you well for your services, and as it happens, I have a job that needs doing but no men available to do it. What do you say?"

Kazadarin adjust his hood out of nervous habit. "Yes mamm. We are here to help as you need us."

Litsy shook her head:

"I know... I just..."

She sighed deeply.

"I just thought we could do something for him... Help him. We cannot. Nevermind..."

She didn't add anything, and remained silent on their way to the Citadel. She raised her eyes then, listening to the conversation with interest.

Just the cost of a dagger. The whole item cost vs actual day wages has always been dysfunctional in roleplaying games. We start with hundreds of gold at first level for equipment which supposed ly is a fortune for commoners. Were do we get it all? Heck, a long bow cost 100 g, how do commoners afford one for hunting?

Gern responded to the woman's request. "Aye lass, that's what we're here fer. Ter assist as ye need. Ye let us know all the details and we'll be offski ter sort yer problems, ye ken."

Kroft pushes herself wearily out of her chair, leaning forward on the desk. "Apoligies, I'm the Field Marshal, but you can call me Kroft, or Cressida. Now, Korvosa’s got enough troubles as it is without my own men losing their way and going rogue. As much as it pains me to admit, though, this has happened several times already. Many guards have deserted their posts, more concerned about friends and family than the city. I can understand this, yet not all of the deserters have family—some of them are simply using the riots as an excuse for personal gain. One such man is Verik Vancaskerkin. Worse than a lone deserter, he’s convinced a small group of fellow guards that Queen Ileosa is going to ruin the city.

“Vancaskerkin and his men have holed up in an abandoned butcher’s shop up in Northgate—the place was called All the World’s Meat. I need you to check out the place. Try to avoid killing any of the deserters if you can, but if you must, they brought it upon themselves when they threw in their lot with Vancaskerkin. For him, I’d really prefer it if you could capture him alive and return him to me for interrogation, but if he makes that impossible, I’ll accept his body as well. Finally, see if you can find out why Verik deserted—if there’s more to it than simple personal politics, I need to know immediately. Bring me Verik alive, and there’s a thousand gold in it for you. Dead, he’s only worth half that.”

She once again sits, collapsing heavily into her chair. "You're more than welcome to stay the night here, and I can put in a good word at the Three Rings Tavern as well. Questions about the job?"

She really should have prepared better, but she was going to have to hit the ground running, it seemed. Stepping forward, Laijiri's mind was racing as she she took a deep breath and then calmly met the Field Marshal's eyes. "I have a few questions, if you will."

Quickly, she tried to think of all the angles that this could be seen from, and proceeded from there. "Firstly, how concerned are you with our perceived affiliation? I ask, because you are sending us out, and we intend to return him to you alive, but how public is the knowledge that we are arriving?" Word would travel, but their perceived importance would influence its spread. "That our orders are not being written says enough, but I want to be certain."

"Secondly, in this current state of the city, who do you know that deals with information? We are on a time limit, I realize. In that case, I'd rather we operate as quietly as we can manage, which may not be much, but the less notice that we're coming, the better. I doubt you could give us much-- if any-- leeway with the Hellknights, so I'll not inquire about that." Her hands rested at her sides, though her fingers were drumming on her thighs as she counted the necessary questions off.

"Finally, you said Verik has 'a small group' with him. What was their last known estimate of numbers? Five is not much, but over ten will greatly complicate things, especially if we are to bring him back alive. Do you wish any of the others following him to be returned as well?" Deflating a bit, Laijiri waited for the answers. At her best guess, they had under a week to get this done, and the faster, the better.

Korft meets Laijiri's eyes, suppressing a yawn with great difficulty. "Sorry, I've been going nonstop since this started, and my duty was almost over when it started. One of the Vaultsmen is supposed to be here shortly to give me a little pick-me-up, but until then..."

She looks over some parchments on her desk. "Your answers in reverse order. First, I know he left with four others, all guards. I'd prefer as many alive as you can manage, but I don't expect them to go quietly. You don't put out a five hundred sail bounty on a man's head if you want him dead. We mostly want Verik back, though. He was a patrol captain, the others were just Guardsmen." A passing group of Guardsmen give her a dirty look, and she groans. "Not that we don't need everyone, but his desertion hurt more than the others'.

I can't help you with the Order of the Order of the Nail, you're right. If you're looking for information on the job, I'm sure there's someone in Northgate who knows what's going on at that butcher's shop. You'll just have to ask around, but I'm sure you can do it. As for your affiliation, feel free to introduce yourselves as "agents of the Guard" or anything like that, just so long as you don't say "Guardsmen". You're not officially protected from the law, but I've got a lot of say in whether your actions are prosecuted, or even investigated. Don't go butchering citizens and we won't have problems."

"One more thing." Kroft looks at Gern. "I've got a volunteer outside, said he'd like to do whatever he can to help. He's a cleric of Torag, and he claims to be one of your kind. Doesn't look the part, but who am I to judge. Would you all mind taking him with you?"

"A cleric o' me god! Aye, I'll happily take ' em along. A cleric o' Torag kens how to fight as well as take care o' tha flock, so ter speak."

He moved excitedly to the door and opened it, looking around for the dwarf, and wondering if perhaps it was going to be a woman. It had been some time since he'd had the company of a good Dwarven woman and he had to admit to a bit of excitement.

It took a moment before he came to the realisation that the tall man standing there looking at him had all the regalia of Torag, only somewhat bigger sized than Gern was used to.

" Yer noooo dwarf! Yer a human ye ken! he couldn't help but sound disappointed. He knew that humans living close to the clans where he'd come from sometimes gave Torag worship, but he had been expecting a dwarf...and a woman at that. Sigh.

Bran honest face brightens with a big smile, and he salutes traditionally Gern in fluent dwarfish, with a booming voice, towering him.

может подделывающийся - с вами.

Don't let your eyes fool you, for I am, at heart and soul, a true dwarf, like you. My name is Bran Berakin, of the Berakin clan. I am a faithful of Torag, and I am willing to help restore the law and order in these troubled times.

Kazadarin watches the new comer with interest. "I am Kazadarin Darlok, ranger and follower of Desna. It pleases me to meet you."

Glad to meet you too, Kazadarin, glad to meet you too. Desna, hu? Her realms are limitless: whether above or under the ground, you have to sleep and dream. A faithful ally of Torag. Bran Berakin, of the Berakin clan. I am a follower of Torag. And, of course, a dwarf. A big boned dwarf, as my mother said more than once.

He gives a vigorous handshake to Kazadarin. He's not as strong as the ranger, but he's well muscled and seems in perfect health.
And yes, at 6'6", he can be called as a "big boned dwarf".

Litsy couldn't help but giggling when she saw Gern's disappointment. When she realized that she had to tilt her head back until her neck hurted to look the 'dwarf' in the eyes, she giggled some more.

It wasn't mockery, though. Only amusement.

I haven't seen a guy that tall since Horsk the Headcrusher... And he was a barrel, even for a half-orc!

"Please, don't mind, Bran... He was just surprised by your height. You're kind of tall, for a dwarf."

And I'm kind of small for a human.

"Anyway. Glad to meet you! Welcome in the family!"

Fresh air of the mountains, little one. I avoided it for most of my life, as I worked deep into the mines, for the glory of Torag and the well being of my community. My fellows dwarves nicknamed me "Two-Times", but I never managed to drink twice as much as them.Don't know why.

His handshake is an iron grip.

Are you from the mountains yourself? You're not that tall, probably cause you had to keep close to the ground, with all that strange sky above. No one can know what threats the treacherous skies can hide. We had no problem like that deep under the earth, obviously.Even if I banged my head quite a few times, but that's another kind of problem. Never kept me to do my work. I just used more than one helmet in the mines.

He slaps Litsy shoulder.
Ouch.
Family! Now that is a pleasant sound! Torag is all for family, and community. We care for each other, watch each other's back. Unless our back is against the wall, obviously. So, are you a sister? A wife? A distant cousin? An aunt maybe? I've never been aunted, cause my mother had no sister, obviously.

Litsy tried her best not to grimace in pain.
Tried.
At least, she managed not to whine miserably.

Oooooooooooowwwwwwwwwww....

"Well, my name is Litsy, and I'm not from the moutains," the rogue quickly replied, rubbing her soulder with her -now only- available hand. "I grew up on Korvosa's streets, if I ever grew up in my life! Not that I'm complaining, though. Being tiny has its advantages. I don't bang my head much often."

And its disadvantages, like having my fingers nearly broken by a human-sized dwarf who can't control his own strenght.

"About family, that was a way of speaking... We all can look after each other as if we were parents, but without being related by blood (or at least not yet, I have a few bones left)... Or if you insist, I'd rather be like, a really, REALLY distant cousin."

And she indeed took a few steps back.
Conservation instinct, and stuff.

And he was a barrel, even for a half-orc![/i]

*He was a bull.

Cressida Kroft steps out into the courtyard. "I'm glad you seem to be getting along, but there's another three patrols to detail, and that Vaultsman's supposed to be here soon to give me a pick-me-up. If you're looking for information, that inn I mentioned is in the same district as the butcher's shop. They might know more than I do. I won't tell you how to do your business, but I do expect results before too long. Good luck out there, and stay safe." She turns and heads back into the central keep.

Gern took the hint for what it was. He looked the human dwarf up and down one last time before shaking his head in bewilderment.

"Roight then, let's offski. Tha sooner we get done wit' bringin' in yon traitors, the sooner I can ha' a drink at the pub!

He led the group out of the barracks and back into the streets. He would reserve judgement on their newest member until he had seen him in battle. This was not the first human he'd heard of that claimed dwarven kinship, but he was certainly the first who thought himself an actual dwarf.

Bran walks side by side with Gern.
Of course, he has to walk slow, but he seems quite used to it.

And he speaks a fluent dwarfish all the way on the streets, enquiring politely about Gern's family, clan, professionnal occupation, and other chitchat.

Coming back to the human tongue, he says to whoever might hear in the group,including innocent passer-by in the street
So what are we going to do right now? Bringing law and peace to some trouble makers? Surely they can be bring bacjk to reason, and revert to a life of honest, hard toil.I got an holy book about it, called Alk"Narabesh fru belaredin Torag".

Bran seems lost in his thoughts a few moments
I guess I could translate this as "Honoring Torag through a life of toil". With some luck, these wrong doers will understand our langage, Gern. I don't know if I'll have the time to translate the book. Maybe only the best passages? It's only 10 pages long??

There's hope, true hope, in Bran's voice.

Kazadarin follows behind the cleric and frowns as he losens his greatsword in its sheath.

Litys sighed discreetly. The cleric was obviously good-willed... But his words also revealed that he was terribly naive, with a totally Manichean view of the world.

Does he really think that those deserters are some kind of "evil bad guy living a life of crimes"? I bet he does...

She shook her head.

"No, big boy, we're going to arrest a bunch of persons who think they are better off by themselves, whether they are corrupted or not... And for whatever personal reason we may have."

She raised her voice:

"Excuse me, but that woman back there mentionned that we could stay the night for free... We'll rest once the job's done, then?"