Curse Of The Crimson Throne Pathfinder

The Show must go on.

[To help keep trade flowing into the city, the ratpack were forced to fight as entertainment for the King of Spiders at Eels End. About midday and surrounded by gamblers, thugs, addicts and slumming nobles, the group kicked their plan into action to secure the evidence to blackmail the ambassador.]

Not having the 10,000 golden sails to buy the letters from the King of Spiders, the group move back to the pier and robustly discuss options. Options swung from killing snitches, sinking a warship to kill on onboard, and sneaking into a nest of spiders to steal the chest.

A solution was decided upon, less mad than the others, for some of the group to fight in the local game called "knives'es" that involved daggers and hot coins balanced on a table. To make it interesting the King set some new rules that included a mass group of two group members fighting against three experienced "knifers", two wererats, and the city champion.

Reggy volunteered quickly, as the young monk was confident he could handle a fight like this. However, the King demanded a second member to join in. The group all looked at each other and Bamil saw that as the tallest member left it was his duty to fight with Reggy.

Taking off his padded armor Bamil prepared for the fight by casting a grease and stone fist spell on himself and looking forward to hurting someone today. Having not used his spells before this day he knew that he would be forced to unleash his spells if they were to win. While preparing Bamil thanked Toser for the magical armor protecting his body in a glowing chain shirt and assured him that he was the best choice to enter the fight with Reggy.

Once Reggy and Bamil were standing on the large raised platform, Toser stayed in the crowds for magical support if needed. Yhrackin was nowhere to be seen, but she was capable and at half the crowds height it was easy to miss her anyway.

The countdown finished and Bamil sprung into action by sliding out his hands before anyone else had moved and threw a burst of coloured light across the wererat's, who were unaffected by the spell, to stun only one of the knifers.

Reggy didn't even bother to pull his hands out and shoulder charged one of the half orcs hard off the platform. He was an able fighter without his hands and courageous as known to the group watching him fight an Otyugh last night.

In the first round Bamil and Reggy had defeated two opponents already and witnessed one of the other knifers blinded with flour from the crowd.

Then things got real, very fast, as the champion picked up a dagger and sliced the blinded half orc across the neck nearly taking the head right off in one move. That orc was dead but didn't know it yet. The others starting surrounding Reggy as he moved to Bamil's side.

As one of the wererats scooped up coins, Bamil punched him hard in the shoulder with the stone fist, stepped back and swept waves of flame across the wererats trying to kill them before being bitten. One of the wererats hair and clothes caught fire but the other evaded the fires to bite Reggy, however missed with gnashing teeth only managing to scratch the fast moving monk with the rats yellow claws.

In response Reggy barged forward to shove the standing rat of the stage while the other one dropped to roll and put the flames out. Suddenly the fiery rat stopped rolling and the flames that had nearly gone out, burst into heat again until the rat stopped moving. The smell of burnt dog flowed across the crowd. In the crowd Toser was smiling as he noticed no one had seen his spell casting and thought ahead to the golden sails they would be winning at six to one odds.

Turning around Reggy saw the orc drop to the platform spraying coins with his blood as it squirted out of the neck wound. While the monk prepared to battle the local champion, which promised to be deadly as the champion moved the dagger with expertise.

Reggy heard Bamil speaking smoothly behind him and saw a flash of abject terror stretch the local champions face as Bamil stopped talking and pointed at the champion with a finger bone. The champion turned and ran into the crowd screaming about huge dream spiders chasing him.

Suddenly the only two left on the table was Reggy and Bamil. Standing near a orc bleeding out, a smoldering wererat, and coins rolling under foot, the heroes took a breath to realise it had only been a few seconds of fighting and the crowd had loved it.

Bamil faced Reggy yelling out to let him collect more coins so they could win the game and beat the wererats. The crowd went silent as Reggy jumped off the platform without explanation or waiting.

Everything stopped at the sudden self dismissal, while Reggy was looking at the stunned Toser and Bamil in brief shock. Bamil fell to his knees and scooped as many coins as possible until the whistle or whatever was used to signal the end went off. Bamil was declared the hero with a margin of 5 coins ahead of the wererat.

No matter, the King of Spiders was suitably impressed and the group attended his office for the letter he promised. All were feeling pretty flushed with victory and the chest full of coins won through gambling. No one had noticed that Yhrackin was still not with them.

That was when the group realised the cage was open, no drake to be seen and the smell of vermin repellant was still strong. No one moved, as they all watched the King of Spiders reaction, prepared to fight to the death.

He laughed and got another chest to hand us one of the letters.

Still unsure what happened, but confident that we knew who would know, we thanked the King of Spiders and left Eels End as fast as small feet can move.

It was only yesterday!

[Bamil leaves the interrogation room and heads to the barracks area that are their lodging tonight]

Bamil lays out the collection of valuables he has earned as his share over the last two days. Looking at the gold bars, small pile of jewellry, sachets of shiver, and golden sails grouped in fistfuls on the blanket he realises the depth of the last two days.

It was only yesterday that he found and killed Gaedren Lamm at the abandoned fishmongers in partnership with a barmaid, tinker, noble lady and young traveling monk. Back then he was living rough in the streets with a few pinch to his name after a year in the black prison of Korvosa accused of murder.

Before his arrest, he was training as an illusionist in a renowned Acadamae preparing for the day the Order called on him. Those days of study seem so long ago. Today he raided a butchery and captured a deserter from the Korvosian Guard while armed as the caravan guards that attend the merchant stalls. He has spent more time with blood than ink and cast more spells in battle now than all the time in the Acamadae. If only the tutors knew what they should teach their apprentices to be able to survive on the streets.

Seeing the wealth assembled in front of him, Bamil cannot believe that he possesses more wealth than his family held in five years, let alone just two days. What will I be, what will I see and what will i have done by the end of the week? Will I succumb to greed or one of the other sins from the past historical records. Will one of the ratpack become corrupted and be killed by my hand for doing so?

It is surprising that adventurers don't go mad with the daily events they face if the last two days of our journey is an indication. It would be wise to steel our minds and prepare for the dangers of the soul that we will surely face here in Korvosa.

Blood & Fish guts
The Holy Book of Spiral Bones

[After the room has been made safe and the group is settling in for the night]

Sitting at the desk with the glow of a small candle, Bamil has an iron framed book open as he turns pages with care. With careful deliberation Bamil scribes new arcane evocations into his holy text. The tapping of quill on ceramic pot is frequent as the scratches of goose quill slowly fade each time to begin anew.

After several hours Bamil closes the book reverantly and whispers quiet prayers while holding his silver scarab beetle amulet in his hands. A fresh layer of dirty ash has been applied to his face with the spiral of the Lady of Graves drawn on his forehead, yet he seems at peace for once.

A fading azure glow can be seen coming from the holy text when Bamil snuffs out the candle and packs his gear away.

As Bamil rolls out his bedroll in the corner near the wall opposite the door, he thinks to himself about his mission now that Gaedren Lamm has been dealt with. Is this group suitable to assist me in completing this vital task? Time will tell.

Bamil places a small piece of the fortune tellers Cheliaxian bread on his bedroll for his friend to enjoy tonight and lays his head down to sleep.

[Crawling along the edges of the room is a small plump brown water rat that makes it way to Bamil's bedroll and nestles in for the night]

Muttering to the rat, "Well, what have you been up to my friend? Any news of the streets?"

[The rat doesn't answer and chews the bread quickly]

My parent's murderer is dead!

Lamm is dead.  These people have been helpful, sometimes quite remarkable in their abilities and behaviour. Can I keep up my pretence? I have been a barmaid for so long, it is good to use the skills my father taught me. This city is going to the abyss. Can I trust a priestess to teach me the truth about Pharasma? Will the wizard show me how to stun my opponents with skill? That Monk is so much fun to fight alongside, although he does need encouragement and guidance. 

No one noticed my lack of reaction to the sudden awareness that Zalora is dead. Praise Pharasma that they didn't. We found some nice trinkets here. A nice crossbow, better than my sling.  We found a silve ring, my mother, Emmah, had a ring just like that one. The disguise kit will come in handy one day.  I wonder if there is anything hidden in this place?

oh yeah, I killed a crocodillo almost singlehandedly! 

Justice will be served
Reflections at a fishmonger

[After the rush of struggle with Lamm and his criminal thugs in the abandoned fishmongers. The group of Lamm's victims rest in the lower rooms near the lapping ocean while the city alarm horns are sounding.]

After making sure that Toser is going to live, Bamil clears part of the desk away and sits down to think about what finding Lamm means for him. Watching the others go through the belongings of the newly dead thugs and room contents raises concerning thoughts.

Finding justice is one thing, but have I now become a looter of the dead and common burglar. How far have I fallen since Lamm accused me of murder. Can a follower and member of Pharasma even loot the dead, or is this taboo? I see that there are items here of significant value and wealth that would lift me from the slums of Korvosa.

Studying the others that risked their lives to find revenge I see a mixed pot of abilities and motivations that appeared to work well together when danger raised its head. I have never seen the fighting style and agility shown by Reggy before, even if he is naive to the ways of a city. It is not his fault he is only young by anyones standard and may learn to survive.

The priest will end up dead if she cannot see that having clean clothes is not worth her or our lives. Still that is her choice. She is the most promising one to aid me in the orders mission though and I should continue to work alongside her for a time.

I was surprised by the self taught summoner and his constructed entity, he is nothing like the conjurers from the Acamadae. At least he understands the arcane and we can understand each other. Maybe we can study together, since I no longer have access to the Hall of Lies library.

Looking across to the barmaid, who clearly is comfortable with killing helpless people and robbing them, I wonder what the hell she is doing here. Is she following me? I have seen her too many times in my search for Gaedren to be a coincidence. She will need watching.

Turning my attention to the small collection of valuables, I wonder if this is the direction of my life now. Fulfilling my mission requires funds and special items which means I need to earn serious coin. I must reflect on this and whether the lady of graves will permit me to steal from the dead.

Another Sunday evening.
Who can I trust?

It is another Sunday evening. More of the regulars shuffle in. I have served here at 'Jeggy's Jug' for two months. At least it is better than 'The Tilted Elbow'.  Sixteen years it has been since I lost my Papa at the hand of Lamm. Living on the streets has taught me self reliance. Jonn, an  acquaintance in the Cerulean Society helped me get this job. Barmaid! What would Papa think of me. Papa taught me how to make locks and keys. But no-one trusts a girl that can fix locks. I am stuck waitressing and pulling ales.  Maybe than tall Halfling will come back and show me how to mix that brew we shared the other night…….

For those that lose their way, go back to the source

[Sitting at a wooden table inside the church of Sarenrae, with several opened holy tomes spread out from the golden robed pilgrim eagerly studying a text titled "The Cleansing fires of the faithful"]

Bamil discretely shifts his eyes to glance at anyone that may be watching him in this holy place. It has been more than a month of futile effort trying to locate the crime lord Gaedren Lamm by himself. Feeling his frustration growing, he has taken the advice of his family mentor and friend to seek answers in study so that the path will become clear. He reminded Bamil not to waste time that could be better spent understanding the ways of necromancy and how undead are controlled instead of watching the markets from sunrise to sunset each day.

Reading the tome again his interest peaks. He thinks that the cleansing fire aspect of the dawnflowers faithful could be applied in his magic with a bit more research and is a worthwhile use of time until he has a lead on Lamm. Today is the first time he has actually relaxed, probably due to the presence of a library filled with books, and the familiar golden robes of the clergy that take him back to his time in Osirion and of the order.

Reaching into his pocket and breaking off a bread crust to feed a small brown water rat that is nestled beneath the pilgrim robes. Nobody seems to notice this or the fact that the golden robes and black oiled hair seem to ripple like a small heatwave, briefly showing scruffy golden hair and faded red wizard robes before going back to normal.

While the rat chews the morsel Bamil thinks of how to draw on this "cleansing fire" from the dawnflower, and goes back to reading.

On the trail of a crimelord
Listening is the most efficient way to find someone

Sitting in what is becoming my 'usual' place in Jeggy's Jug, slowly drinking my mug of Baslwief Brown ale, from my own mug of course. I have been asking people for days now where I can find Gaedren, but no one seems to know or care about what he is doing to the children.

Some of the merchants I have spoken to have told me about some others also looking for Gaedren, and some of them looked quite rough. I should take care if I come to the attention of any of these others.

Looking across the room I can see and hear much of the gossip so I might as well finish this depressing Sunday with a good ale and warmth of the fire. Stopping by for the usual small service at the ruined temple of Aroden today I was informed by the clerics that the city is trying to have it all knocked down. It is always a great shame to destroy any part of our history, especially that which looked after its citizens.

Glancing down at my mug and picking it up. "Anyway, to Cayden, do good, enjoy life and stand up for what you believe in." Tomorrow is another chance to find Gaedren.

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