As Zellara shared her tale, Redii listened with a mix of sympathy and incredulousness. On the one hand, she believed every word the woman had to say regarding her interactions with Gaedren. From her past experiences with the man, that was exactly how she would've expected him to act in that situation. On the other hand, even if she was as gifted a fortune-teller as she claimed, it still didn't explain how she knew exactly when and where to place the card. Or how she had managed to place it on an upper story windowsill without her noticing. Or how that same card (presumably) had ended up in her pocket back at the Lofties hideout. Something didn't add up, but if Zellara could lead her to Gaedren as she claimed, she'd circle back to her other questions once the deed was done.
"I'll take this one." Redii commented as she reached for one of the cards on the table. (Grabbing Card #7)
Brack listened to Zellara passionate plea with a dour expression on his face, his gaze flitting between the ragtag crew and the fortune teller. As she tells about the tragedy befallen her son, he removes his pipe and gives Zellara a look asking for silent approval. With her nod, he loads up another wad of his special mix of tobacco and ash and strikes the match upon the sole of his boot. A few puffs later and he returns back to listening stoically.
As Redii steps up to take her card, Brack steps forward and questions Zellara, "Hrmm... Sad fate that 'ad come to yeh son, yeh 'ave my 'onest condolences. If yeh don't mind my observations, seems like yeh got nothing to lose, eh?" A pause before he points the pipe in her direction, "Are yeh sure t'same can be said for us?"
Though he posed this as a question to the fortune teller, his tone seemed to betray his intentions, as if he needed to hear her reaffirm the fact he knew to be too true.
He gives a quick *harumph* to clear his throat and steps forward to draw a card. Pulling out the 8, he gives the back a quick look before stepping back into place.
Brack listened to Zellara passionate plea with a dour expression on his face, his gaze flitting between the ragtag crew and the fortune teller. As she tells about the tragedy befallen her son, he removes his pipe and gives Zellara a look asking for silent approval. With her nod, he loads up another wad of his special mix of tobacco and ash and strikes the match upon the sole of his boot. A few puffs later and he returns back to listening stoically.
As Redii steps up to take her card, Brack steps forward and questions Zellara, "Hrmm... Sad fate that 'ad come to yeh son, yeh 'ave my 'onest condolences. If yeh don't mind my observations, seems like yeh got nothing to lose, eh?" A pause before he points the pipe in her direction, "Are yeh sure t'same can be said for us?"
Though he posed this as a question to the fortune teller, his tone seemed to betray his intentions, as if he needed to hear her reaffirm the fact he knew to be too true.
He gives a quick *harumph* to clear his throat and steps forward to draw a card. Pulling out the 8, he gives the back a quick look before stepping back into place.
"You're right. I have nothing left in this world to lose. And while it may be too late for me, the same can not be said of you." Zellara began as she looked at the four gathered in front of her. "He's hurt you all, perhaps broken you even, but not to the point of no return. Doing this might give you all the necessary closure you need to begin to move on and rebuild you're lives. At least, that is my hope..."
Mazour clutches the reliquary and mutters a prayer for Zellara's son as she tells her tale. A short but heartfelt prayer to assure that her son see's his way to the next place. In his line of work he sees a great deal of death and grieving. Looking about the room he could see the tell tale signs of it. Etched on their faces, carved into their very souls and worn like badges. Or masks. Watching Redii and Brak choose their cards solidified Mazour. He stood up, smoothing his robes as he did, and lithely moved to the table and slid a card away from the others.
(Chooses Card 2)
"What's that halfling saying about a gift horse?"Mazour gave Brack a sly smile and shook his head. "You've gathered a determined bunch here, Zellara. We're going to end it." Reaching out, he places his hand over Zellara's and gently patted it. "I'm sorry about your son. May the Lady of Graves carry him to the next world. Gaedrun is long overdue for a... reckoning."
"You're right. I have nothing left in this world to lose. And while it may be too late for me, the same can not be said of you." Zellara began as she looked at the four gathered in front of her. "He's hurt you all, perhaps broken you even, but not to the point of no return. Doing this might give you all the necessary closure you need to begin to move on and rebuild you're lives. At least, that is my hope..."
Brack gave a pained expression as Zellara confirmed his accursed outlook, though hearing the truth from another did not soften the blow. He eyebrows widened at her optimism, though once she finished, he could do nothing but heave a heavy sigh. A small nod to her followed, though it remained ambiguous whether this was done out of politeness or agreement with her stance.
Flipping the new card back over and comparing it against the other Harrow card in his possession, he gave a quick smirk. Holding aloft the Eight card, he changes from the previous subject, "Yeh seem to have a distinct taste for both yeh decorations and t'deck 'ere." He now points the card at the various tapestries about the walls, "Any reasoning behind t'murals 'ere? Something to do with t'cards or just something yeh fancy, hm?"
Hutton observed Zellara's entrance and pitch through narrowed eyes, remaining silent until his inaction bordered on awkward.
"You've my sympathies, madam," he says quietly as he leans forward and slides the top card off the pile with two fingers (#1). Without so much as a glance at it, he holds it up between his fingers for the fortuneteller to see.
"...in time perhaps you may come to appreciate what wasn’t taken from you or what grew stronger as a result."
At this, the large man gives a snort of derision but otherwise says nothing.
"This is all well and good," he asserts once Zellara had finished the first column. "But we already know what happened to us. That's why we're here. Will your cards tell us where he is so we can flay the reprobate in a barrel of salt?" He drains the last of the wine in his voluminous mug and scowls back at the face on its side as he sets it on the table once more.
Mazour Laughed at her joke but regarded the card seriously. I need to find a book on these things somewhere. He languidly moved back to his seat, poured himself more wine and lounged back. Listening to Zellara explain the cards he sipped the wine. At Brack's question he raised an eyebrow. Does that poor dwarf like those things? No wonder he has such a sour face. The poor dear.
As the angry mountain grumbled again and drained his mug, Mazour looked over to regard him closer. He'd seen him around, of course. He frequented Crowcreek's pub. And he'd heard all sorts of the rumors of the man. And now, meeting him in person, he believed them. All of them. Even the one about him being a chimera bound in human form. Now that I think about it, there's a million ridiculous stories about the man.
"Mr. Crowcreek, please let her continue. This could be very... helpful," Mazourasked Hutton quietly as he slid the bottle over toward him. Turning back to Zellara he gave her a wry smile and spoke to her in Varisian. "Please, do go on dear."
"You're right. I have nothing left in this world to lose. And while it may be too late for me, the same can not be said of you." Zellara began as she looked at the four gathered in front of her. "He's hurt you all, perhaps broken you even, but not to the point of no return. Doing this might give you all the necessary closure you need to begin to move on and rebuild you're lives. At least, that is my hope..."
Brack gave a pained expression as Zellara confirmed his accursed outlook, though hearing the truth from another did not soften the blow. He eyebrows widened at her optimism, though once she finished, he could do nothing but heave a heavy sigh. A small nod to her followed, though it remained ambiguous whether this was done out of politeness or agreement with her stance.
Flipping the new card back over and comparing it against the other Harrow card in his possession, he gave a quick smirk. Holding aloft The Crows card, he changes from the previous subject, "Yeh seem to have a distinct taste for both yeh decorations and t'deck 'ere." He now points the card at the various tapestries about the walls, "Any reasoning behind t'murals 'ere? Something to do with t'cards or just something yeh fancy, hm?"
Zellara looked around her home before giving the dwarf a small smile. "Ambiance." she replied simply before adding, "And... they were gifted to me in exchange for readings long ago. They've grown on me over the years."
Hutton observed Zellara's entrance and pitch through narrowed eyes, remaining silent until his inaction bordered on awkward.
"You've my sympathies, madam," he says quietly as he leans forward and slides the top card off the pile with two fingers (#1). Without so much as a glance at it, he holds it up between his fingers for the fortuneteller to see.
"The Demons Lantern... interesting..." was all Zellera said as The Demon's Lantern Card was pulled by Hutton.
"...in time perhaps you may come to appreciate what wasn’t taken from you or what grew stronger as a result."
At this, the large man gives a snort of derision but otherwise says nothing.
"This is all well and good," he asserts once Zellara had finished the first column. "But we already know what happened to us. That's why we're here. Will your cards tell us where he is so we can flay the reprobate in a barrel of salt?" He drains the last of the wine in his voluminous mug and scowls back at the face on its side as he sets it on the table once more.
Mazour Laughed at her joke but regarded the card seriously. I need to find a book on these things somewhere. He languidly moved back to his seat, poured himself more wine and lounged back. Listening to Zellara explain the cards he sipped the wine. At Brack's question he raised an eyebrow. Does that poor dwarf like those things? No wonder he has such a sour face. The poor dear.
As the angry mountain grumbled again and drained his mug, Mazour looked over to regard him closer. He'd seen him around, of course. He frequented Crowcreek's pub. And he'd heard all sorts of the rumors of the man. And now, meeting him in person, he believed them. All of them. Even the one about him being a chimera bound in human form. Now that I think about it, there's a million ridiculous stories about the man.
"Mr. Crowcreek, please let her continue. This could be very... helpful," Mazourasked Hutton quietly as he slid the bottle over toward him. Turning back to Zellara he gave her a wry smile and spoke to her in Varisian. "Please, do go on dear."
"Like I mentioned, Gaedren is holed up in an old fishery on Westpier 17. I know you are eager to find him. I just want to make sure I give you as much assistance as possible before you face him, and this is the best way I know how." Zellara responded.
“And now for the present.” Moving to the center column after another brief pause, she flipped the next three cards revealing The Peacock, The Fiend and The Rabbit Prince; taking a strong interest in the first and last card revealed. “This card (The Fiend) represents a potential danger lurking among us, lying in wait for their opportune moment to strike.” Zellara begins ominously. “But it is hazy and may yet be stopped or averted before we are even aware of its presence.
“But, I am more focused on the other cards at the moment. They’re appearance is of particular note. You must pick and choose wisely which ‘battles’ to fight in the days to come and more importantly, act quickly once a decision is made. It seems the city is about to experience some sort of a change, and responding quickly to them will be key...
“Additional, be careful of the fights ahead. Like Gorum, battle is neutral and takes no sides; it is not swayed by the morality of one’s fight. Also…” she added as she looked again at the rest of the group, “I’m sorry, but I will not mince words, you will have some tough decision ahead.” she added to the group, lingering on Redii.
Brack gives a chortle at the reasoning for the tapestries as the Madame continues in her reading. Though ever outward posture and gesture he has given thus far seemed to indicate a sense of incredulous disbelief at this sudden series of events, he remains ever transfixed on the Harrowing. Even going so far as to pull out a small pad of paper to jot down notes, the dwarf appears to be hanging on every word of Zellara, hastily scribbling down her reading for future reference.
Seeing the Rabbit Prince flip up again, the dwarf politely interrupts Zellara, "Hmm... This 'ere seems odd, eh?" he points to the duplicate card and motions towards Redii's card. "Twice in one go, what do yeh say to that, ma'am? Maybe there's more to t'reading than yeh led on, some association or portent we might be missing 'ere? Or am I just looking too far into t'signs yeh are seeing."
He taps his stencil to the pad of paper he's been writing upon and gives the lady a serious look, as if he needed to work out something bothering him before hearing about what futures may lay before the group. "That, and," a pause,"Before we get to t'last reading, would you kindly indulge in explaining a bit that's 'as been bothering me. Yeh mentioned something about t'song and looked all surprised and whatnot when I pulled t'eight card."Another pause, but longer, "Why?"
Though his question was focused on coming to understand Zellara's astonishment at The Crows, it was unmistakable in his tone when he indicated the song that he too was surprised to hear that the fortune teller too shared knowledge of this.
Brack gives a chortle at the reasoning for the tapestries as the Madame continues in her reading. Though ever outward posture and gesture he has given thus far seemed to indicate a sense of incredulous disbelief at this sudden series of events, he remains ever transfixed on the Harrowing. Even going so far as to pull out a small pad of paper to jot down notes, the dwarf appears to be hanging on every word of Zellara, hastily scribbling down her reading for future reference.
Seeing the Rabbit Prince flip up again, the dwarf politely interrupts Zellara, "Hmm... This 'ere seems odd, eh?" he points to the duplicate card and motions towards Redii's card. "Twice in one go, what do yeh say to that, ma'am? Maybe there's more to t'reading than yeh led on, some association or portent we might be missing 'ere? Or am I just looking too far into t'signs yeh are seeing."
He taps his stencil to the pad of paper he's been writing upon and gives the lady a serious look, as if he needed to work out something bothering him before hearing about what futures may lay before the group. "That, and," a pause,"Before we get to t'last reading, would you kindly indulge in explaining a bit that's 'as been bothering me. Yeh mentioned something about t'song and looked all surprised and whatnot when I pulled t'eight card."Another pause, but longer, "Why?"
Though his question was focused on coming to understand Zellara's astonishment at The Crows, it was unmistakable in his tone when he indicated the song that he too was surprised to hear that the fortune teller too shared knowledge of this.
“You are correct.” Zellara began, pausing the Harrowing to reply to Brack’s questions. “While not odd, when ones card from the Choosing is revealed in the Harrowing itself, it means that part of the reading speaks directly to them; in this case to you.” Zellara added looking again at Redii. “Tough choices lie ahead for all of you I am sure, but in this particular case, the cards tell me that you in particular will have some tough times ahead. Whether it is one in particular or many, I cannot say. Nor how soon. All I know is that you will not be able to run away. A choice must be made…”
“I don’t plan on running away from anything. And I’m sure I’ll know what to do whenever this big ‘decision’ needs to be made.” Redii replied in her typical manner.
“I hope for your sake, the cards are wrong. But they rarely are...” Zellara replied before turning back to Brack. “As for your other questions, it was just a feeling that I received when seeing the card. The Crows can represent many things: theft, loss, desecration or harm to another, but it is oftentimes tinged with death in some way. The Choosing can vary. More often than not, it relates to an event or action that you’ve done or will do. In this case, I believe your card represents someone or something you may meet or have met in the past. Someone other than Gaedren. That is the best I can offer.”
DC14 Insight Check to know the spoiler below:
Redii is putting on airs and is definitely a bit unnerved by what Zellara just shared with her.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Insight 7
Mazour lounged in his chair, taking in the reading and Brack's questions. He looked from the varisian fortuneteller to the dwarf with a wry smile. Sipping his wine he waited for the answer and the rest of the reading.
Taking a few moments to let the previous reading settle in, she began to flip the final row of cards, revealing The Desert, The Tyrant and The Brass Dwarf; taking slightly more than a passing interest in the top card. “I suspect the Tyrant card represents Gaedren. The fact that it appears is a good sign that you may reach him soon. And a last few words of caution. First, do not think yourselves invulnerable as it may lead to failure. And lastly, help may come from unexpected sources or places. You must learn to spot and trust them. It could be the key to everything…”
Collecting the cards, this time mundanely with her hands, she once again looked at each person at the table; the last vestiges of the setting sun casting long shadows across the darkening room. “I turn to all of you now to repeat my request. No, I beg you. Stop Gaedren. I cannot do it myself and the Guard cannot or will not do it. He deserves to pay for his crimes, and I suspect confronting him will bring you all the solace you seek. Will you do it?”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Scene 3
Brack listens intently to the explanation given by Zellara, shifting his gaze between Redii and the Madame as she elaborates on the troubles that lay ahead for this stranger. He takes a note on his pad though offers no recourse.
As the fortune teller shifts her conversation to Brack's question, his expression turns dour. As the interpretation is given, his writing hand begins to quiver slightly with his skin seemingly turning a shade lighter, though it would be hard to confirm in the dim light of the room. As she notes about whether the event lays in the future or the past, his temperament returns to normal. Giving a polite nod of his head, he acknowledges her reading with a "Hrmm."
A pause as he thinks on her reading and careful choice of wording. Insight Check: 2
Taking a few moments to let the previous reading settle in, she began to flip the final row of cards, revealing The Desert, The Tyrant and The Brass Dwarf; taking slightly more than a passing interest in the top card. “I suspect the Tyrant card represents Gaedren. The fact that it appears is a good sign that you may reach him soon. And a last few words of caution. First, do not think yourselves invulnerable as it may lead to failure. And lastly, help may come from unexpected sources or places. You must learn to spot and trust them. It could be the key to everything…”
Collecting the cards, this time mundanely with her hands, she once again looked at each person at the table; the last vestiges of the setting sun casting long shadows across the darkening room. “I turn to all of you now to repeat my request. No, I beg you. Stop Gaedren. I cannot do it myself and the Guard cannot or will not do it. He deserves to pay for his crimes, and I suspect confronting him will bring you all the solace you seek. Will you do it?”
Redii remained quiet for the rest of the Harrowing after hearing Zellara’s specific warning about herself. She didn’t quite know how to take it. Difficult decisions? What the Hells does that mean? It can’t be worse than some of the other crap I’ve had to deal with in my life can it…? As she was lost in thought, Redii caught herself scratching at her arms again unconsciously before making a concerted effort to stop despite how much it itched. Thinking of Gaedren and other parts of her past always made her itch for multiple reasons. Shaking her head slightly to focus, she listened to the rest of the Harrowing and her repeated plea to stop Gaedren.
“You already know that I want the man dead,” Redii replied as she rose from her chair. “And he’s so paranoid at times that if I don’t go soon, I feel like he’ll get some weird sense of his imminent death and up leave before I – we – get there. So thank you for the information Zellara – and for The Harrowing – but I think it’s time we give Gaedren a visit.” Redii then looked around at the others and waited to see if they were in agreement. She wasn’t sure if she was antsy to leave because of Gaedren or because of the way Zellara had seemingly looked at her during The Harrowing, but she wanted to leave the woman’s home fast.
Mazour leaned forward as Zellara finished the reading. Violet eyes locked in on the cards as he listened to her plea.
"My dear, you had me at... hello. As Redii said, we will see this done." Mazour rose from the chair and placed the now empty glass on the table.I'm not sure about Brack here, but it's fairly clear Mr. Crowcreek is interested. Not to be rude, Zellara, but I think we should begin this now No time like the present, as they say."
With that, Mazour looked around to the others expectantly as he smoothed out his robes. "Shall we go?"
"Mr. Crowcreek, please let her continue. This could be very... helpful," Mazourasked Hutton quietly as he slid the bottle over toward him. Turning back to Zellara he gave her a wry smile and spoke to her in Varisian. "Please, do go on dear."
Hutton raises a bushy eyebrow at the oddly grey elf, scoffs quietly, and returns his gaze to the fortuneteller.
"The Demons Lantern... interesting..." was all Zellera said as The Demon's Lantern Card was pulled by Hutton.
"Hrmph... What's interesting about it? Looks just like all the rest of the cards to me," he grumps as he leans back a bit and crosses his tree trunk arms to observe the rest of the ritual.
At the conclusion of the Harrowing, Hutton stands with the others and a grin tugs at one side of his lightly beard-obscured lips.
"Now we're talking. Nothing against your portents and prognostications, madam, but sitting around talking about the problem makes me uneasy and it seems you've done well to put together a troupe of people of action and for that I'm grateful."
He nods to Redii and Mazour before looking to the dwarf. "You look familiar, bard. Have you played in or been kicked out of my tavern? I don't make a habit of trusting musicians but seeing how we've been thrust together as we have, I'll just have to keep my eye on you until the deed's done. Now...you coming or not?" Pushing his mug back into his bag, he turns toward the door with a "Thank you kindly for your hospitality. I'll be taking my leave now. There's work to be done."
Taking a few moments to let the previous reading settle in, she began to flip the final row of cards, revealing The Desert, The Tyrant and The Brass Dwarf; taking slightly more than a passing interest in the top card. “I suspect the Tyrant card represents Gaedren. The fact that it appears is a good sign that you may reach him soon. And a last few words of caution. First, do not think yourselves invulnerable as it may lead to failure. And lastly, help may come from unexpected sources or places. You must learn to spot and trust them. It could be the key to everything…”
Brack looks at Zellara perplexed at the final reading. He speaks up after she finishes, asking, "Ma'am, yeh mentioned the Tyrant, but what about t'other two."He motions to The Brass Dwarf and Desert, though it is clear to see from his gaze that his interest is on the dwarven-based card. "Are they just complimentary or is there another deeper meaning 'ere like before, hm?"
With that, Mazour looked around to the others expectantly as he smoothed out his robes. "Shall we go?"
He nods to Redii and Mazour before looking to the dwarf."You look familiar, bard. Have you played in or been kicked out of my tavern? I don't make a habit of trusting musicians but seeing how we've been thrust together as we have, I'll just have to keep my eye on you until the deed's done. Now...you coming or not?"
Brack snorted at the others and bristled in his cloak, putting aside his pad and stencil, "Don't doubt that I 'aven't t'same determination as yeh in seeing Gaedran get what's been coming to 'im, that's for sure. But, we barely know each other save for t'mutual pasts we seem to share. Do yeh think we'd stand a chance just bumbling our way on up as a ragtag crew and expect to put the 'it on Gaedren as it is now, eh?"
He pulled back his hood, letting the torchlight bring his features into full focus, "If we're truly serious about this 'ere chance to right what's been wronged, then we ought to know what everyone's bringing to t'table and," He points the stencil across everyone in the room for emphasis, "knowing 'im, we best damn sure 'ave a plan."
Brack looks to the others, seeing if anyone would venture forth a counter to his suggestion.
"Well, if you want to be tactically sound I suppose it would be a grand idea. I am a cleric of the Lady of Graves, bearing her will and magics. The very line of life or death blur at her whim and fancy." Mazour placed his hand daintily on his chest as he spoke. When he paused he raised the reliquary like a badge of honor. He continued in his measured and breathy voice. "Aside from that, my dashing good looks and overwhelming charm there lies a heart of... true humility. I like long walks in the rain, a good drink and a fine meal. Add in a good song and I'm as happy as a halfling."The elf then glanced toward Brack with a wry grin and batted his eyes.
As Zellara shared her tale, Redii listened with a mix of sympathy and incredulousness. On the one hand, she believed every word the woman had to say regarding her interactions with Gaedren. From her past experiences with the man, that was exactly how she would've expected him to act in that situation. On the other hand, even if she was as gifted a fortune-teller as she claimed, it still didn't explain how she knew exactly when and where to place the card. Or how she had managed to place it on an upper story windowsill without her noticing. Or how that same card (presumably) had ended up in her pocket back at the Lofties hideout. Something didn't add up, but if Zellara could lead her to Gaedren as she claimed, she'd circle back to her other questions once the deed was done.
"I'll take this one." Redii commented as she reached for one of the cards on the table. (Grabbing Card #7)
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Brack listened to Zellara passionate plea with a dour expression on his face, his gaze flitting between the ragtag crew and the fortune teller. As she tells about the tragedy befallen her son, he removes his pipe and gives Zellara a look asking for silent approval. With her nod, he loads up another wad of his special mix of tobacco and ash and strikes the match upon the sole of his boot. A few puffs later and he returns back to listening stoically.
As Redii steps up to take her card, Brack steps forward and questions Zellara, "Hrmm... Sad fate that 'ad come to yeh son, yeh 'ave my 'onest condolences. If yeh don't mind my observations, seems like yeh got nothing to lose, eh?" A pause before he points the pipe in her direction, "Are yeh sure t'same can be said for us?"
Though he posed this as a question to the fortune teller, his tone seemed to betray his intentions, as if he needed to hear her reaffirm the fact he knew to be too true.
He gives a quick *harumph* to clear his throat and steps forward to draw a card. Pulling out the 8, he gives the back a quick look before stepping back into place.
Zoldier's Curse of the Crimson Throne
"You're right. I have nothing left in this world to lose. And while it may be too late for me, the same can not be said of you." Zellara began as she looked at the four gathered in front of her. "He's hurt you all, perhaps broken you even, but not to the point of no return. Doing this might give you all the necessary closure you need to begin to move on and rebuild you're lives. At least, that is my hope..."
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Mazour clutches the reliquary and mutters a prayer for Zellara's son as she tells her tale. A short but heartfelt prayer to assure that her son see's his way to the next place. In his line of work he sees a great deal of death and grieving. Looking about the room he could see the tell tale signs of it. Etched on their faces, carved into their very souls and worn like badges. Or masks. Watching Redii and Brak choose their cards solidified Mazour. He stood up, smoothing his robes as he did, and lithely moved to the table and slid a card away from the others.
(Chooses Card 2)
"What's that halfling saying about a gift horse?" Mazour gave Brack a sly smile and shook his head. "You've gathered a determined bunch here, Zellara. We're going to end it." Reaching out, he places his hand over Zellara's and gently patted it. "I'm sorry about your son. May the Lady of Graves carry him to the next world. Gaedrun is long overdue for a... reckoning."
Zoldier's Curse of the Crimson Throne
003 - The Choosing
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Scene 2
Brack gave a pained expression as Zellara confirmed his accursed outlook, though hearing the truth from another did not soften the blow. He eyebrows widened at her optimism, though once she finished, he could do nothing but heave a heavy sigh. A small nod to her followed, though it remained ambiguous whether this was done out of politeness or agreement with her stance.
Flipping the new card back over and comparing it against the other Harrow card in his possession, he gave a quick smirk. Holding aloft the Eight card, he changes from the previous subject, "Yeh seem to have a distinct taste for both yeh decorations and t'deck 'ere." He now points the card at the various tapestries about the walls, "Any reasoning behind t'murals 'ere? Something to do with t'cards or just something yeh fancy, hm?"
(Scene 1)
Hutton observed Zellara's entrance and pitch through narrowed eyes, remaining silent until his inaction bordered on awkward.
"You've my sympathies, madam," he says quietly as he leans forward and slides the top card off the pile with two fingers (#1). Without so much as a glance at it, he holds it up between his fingers for the fortuneteller to see.
(Scene 2)
At this, the large man gives a snort of derision but otherwise says nothing.
"This is all well and good," he asserts once Zellara had finished the first column. "But we already know what happened to us. That's why we're here. Will your cards tell us where he is so we can flay the reprobate in a barrel of salt?" He drains the last of the wine in his voluminous mug and scowls back at the face on its side as he sets it on the table once more.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Mis'tuv (Halfling Fathomless Warlock) - The Voyage of the Fallen Star
Meresaa (Vedalken Artillerist Artificer) - Destination Unknown
Hutton Crowcreek (Human Fighter) - Curse of the Crimson Throne
Mazour Laughed at her joke but regarded the card seriously. I need to find a book on these things somewhere. He languidly moved back to his seat, poured himself more wine and lounged back. Listening to Zellara explain the cards he sipped the wine. At Brack's question he raised an eyebrow. Does that poor dwarf like those things? No wonder he has such a sour face. The poor dear.
As the angry mountain grumbled again and drained his mug, Mazour looked over to regard him closer. He'd seen him around, of course. He frequented Crowcreek's pub. And he'd heard all sorts of the rumors of the man. And now, meeting him in person, he believed them. All of them. Even the one about him being a chimera bound in human form. Now that I think about it, there's a million ridiculous stories about the man.
"Mr. Crowcreek, please let her continue. This could be very... helpful," Mazour asked Hutton quietly as he slid the bottle over toward him. Turning back to Zellara he gave her a wry smile and spoke to her in Varisian. "Please, do go on dear."
Zoldier's Curse of the Crimson Throne
Zellara looked around her home before giving the dwarf a small smile. "Ambiance." she replied simply before adding, "And... they were gifted to me in exchange for readings long ago. They've grown on me over the years."
"The Demons Lantern... interesting..." was all Zellera said as The Demon's Lantern Card was pulled by Hutton.
"Like I mentioned, Gaedren is holed up in an old fishery on Westpier 17. I know you are eager to find him. I just want to make sure I give you as much assistance as possible before you face him, and this is the best way I know how." Zellara responded.
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Zoldier's Curse of the Crimson Throne
Scene #3
“And now for the present.” Moving to the center column after another brief pause, she flipped the next three cards revealing The Peacock, The Fiend and The Rabbit Prince; taking a strong interest in the first and last card revealed. “This card (The Fiend) represents a potential danger lurking among us, lying in wait for their opportune moment to strike.” Zellara begins ominously. “But it is hazy and may yet be stopped or averted before we are even aware of its presence.
“But, I am more focused on the other cards at the moment. They’re appearance is of particular note. You must pick and choose wisely which ‘battles’ to fight in the days to come and more importantly, act quickly once a decision is made. It seems the city is about to experience some sort of a change, and responding quickly to them will be key...
“Additional, be careful of the fights ahead. Like Gorum, battle is neutral and takes no sides; it is not swayed by the morality of one’s fight. Also…” she added as she looked again at the rest of the group, “I’m sorry, but I will not mince words, you will have some tough decision ahead.” she added to the group, lingering on Redii.
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
(Scene 3)
Brack gives a chortle at the reasoning for the tapestries as the Madame continues in her reading. Though ever outward posture and gesture he has given thus far seemed to indicate a sense of incredulous disbelief at this sudden series of events, he remains ever transfixed on the Harrowing. Even going so far as to pull out a small pad of paper to jot down notes, the dwarf appears to be hanging on every word of Zellara, hastily scribbling down her reading for future reference.
Seeing the Rabbit Prince flip up again, the dwarf politely interrupts Zellara, "Hmm... This 'ere seems odd, eh?" he points to the duplicate card and motions towards Redii's card. "Twice in one go, what do yeh say to that, ma'am? Maybe there's more to t'reading than yeh led on, some association or portent we might be missing 'ere? Or am I just looking too far into t'signs yeh are seeing."
He taps his stencil to the pad of paper he's been writing upon and gives the lady a serious look, as if he needed to work out something bothering him before hearing about what futures may lay before the group. "That, and," a pause, "Before we get to t'last reading, would you kindly indulge in explaining a bit that's 'as been bothering me. Yeh mentioned something about t'song and looked all surprised and whatnot when I pulled t'eight card." Another pause, but longer, "Why?"
Though his question was focused on coming to understand Zellara's astonishment at The Crows, it was unmistakable in his tone when he indicated the song that he too was surprised to hear that the fortune teller too shared knowledge of this.
Zoldier's Curse of the Crimson Throne
“You are correct.” Zellara began, pausing the Harrowing to reply to Brack’s questions. “While not odd, when ones card from the Choosing is revealed in the Harrowing itself, it means that part of the reading speaks directly to them; in this case to you.” Zellara added looking again at Redii. “Tough choices lie ahead for all of you I am sure, but in this particular case, the cards tell me that you in particular will have some tough times ahead. Whether it is one in particular or many, I cannot say. Nor how soon. All I know is that you will not be able to run away. A choice must be made…”
“I don’t plan on running away from anything. And I’m sure I’ll know what to do whenever this big ‘decision’ needs to be made.” Redii replied in her typical manner.
“I hope for your sake, the cards are wrong. But they rarely are...” Zellara replied before turning back to Brack. “As for your other questions, it was just a feeling that I received when seeing the card. The Crows can represent many things: theft, loss, desecration or harm to another, but it is oftentimes tinged with death in some way. The Choosing can vary. More often than not, it relates to an event or action that you’ve done or will do. In this case, I believe your card represents someone or something you may meet or have met in the past. Someone other than Gaedren. That is the best I can offer.”
DC14 Insight Check to know the spoiler below:
Redii is putting on airs and is definitely a bit unnerved by what Zellara just shared with her.
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Insight 7
Mazour lounged in his chair, taking in the reading and Brack's questions. He looked from the varisian fortuneteller to the dwarf with a wry smile. Sipping his wine he waited for the answer and the rest of the reading.
Zoldier's Curse of the Crimson Throne
Scene #4 - The Harrowing Pt. III: The Future
Taking a few moments to let the previous reading settle in, she began to flip the final row of cards, revealing The Desert, The Tyrant and The Brass Dwarf; taking slightly more than a passing interest in the top card. “I suspect the Tyrant card represents Gaedren. The fact that it appears is a good sign that you may reach him soon. And a last few words of caution. First, do not think yourselves invulnerable as it may lead to failure. And lastly, help may come from unexpected sources or places. You must learn to spot and trust them. It could be the key to everything…”
Collecting the cards, this time mundanely with her hands, she once again looked at each person at the table; the last vestiges of the setting sun casting long shadows across the darkening room. “I turn to all of you now to repeat my request. No, I beg you. Stop Gaedren. I cannot do it myself and the Guard cannot or will not do it. He deserves to pay for his crimes, and I suspect confronting him will bring you all the solace you seek. Will you do it?”
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Scene 3
Brack listens intently to the explanation given by Zellara, shifting his gaze between Redii and the Madame as she elaborates on the troubles that lay ahead for this stranger. He takes a note on his pad though offers no recourse.
As the fortune teller shifts her conversation to Brack's question, his expression turns dour. As the interpretation is given, his writing hand begins to quiver slightly with his skin seemingly turning a shade lighter, though it would be hard to confirm in the dim light of the room. As she notes about whether the event lays in the future or the past, his temperament returns to normal. Giving a polite nod of his head, he acknowledges her reading with a "Hrmm."
A pause as he thinks on her reading and careful choice of wording. Insight Check: 2
Redii remained quiet for the rest of the Harrowing after hearing Zellara’s specific warning about herself. She didn’t quite know how to take it. Difficult decisions? What the Hells does that mean? It can’t be worse than some of the other crap I’ve had to deal with in my life can it…? As she was lost in thought, Redii caught herself scratching at her arms again unconsciously before making a concerted effort to stop despite how much it itched. Thinking of Gaedren and other parts of her past always made her itch for multiple reasons. Shaking her head slightly to focus, she listened to the rest of the Harrowing and her repeated plea to stop Gaedren.
“You already know that I want the man dead,” Redii replied as she rose from her chair. “And he’s so paranoid at times that if I don’t go soon, I feel like he’ll get some weird sense of his imminent death and up leave before I – we – get there. So thank you for the information Zellara – and for The Harrowing – but I think it’s time we give Gaedren a visit.” Redii then looked around at the others and waited to see if they were in agreement. She wasn’t sure if she was antsy to leave because of Gaedren or because of the way Zellara had seemingly looked at her during The Harrowing, but she wanted to leave the woman’s home fast.
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Mazour leaned forward as Zellara finished the reading. Violet eyes locked in on the cards as he listened to her plea.
"My dear, you had me at... hello. As Redii said, we will see this done." Mazour rose from the chair and placed the now empty glass on the table. I'm not sure about Brack here, but it's fairly clear Mr. Crowcreek is interested. Not to be rude, Zellara, but I think we should begin this now No time like the present, as they say."
With that, Mazour looked around to the others expectantly as he smoothed out his robes. "Shall we go?"
Hutton raises a bushy eyebrow at the oddly grey elf, scoffs quietly, and returns his gaze to the fortuneteller.
"Hrmph... What's interesting about it? Looks just like all the rest of the cards to me," he grumps as he leans back a bit and crosses his tree trunk arms to observe the rest of the ritual.
Insight: 10 (in campaign roller)
At the conclusion of the Harrowing, Hutton stands with the others and a grin tugs at one side of his lightly beard-obscured lips.
"Now we're talking. Nothing against your portents and prognostications, madam, but sitting around talking about the problem makes me uneasy and it seems you've done well to put together a troupe of people of action and for that I'm grateful."
He nods to Redii and Mazour before looking to the dwarf. "You look familiar, bard. Have you played in or been kicked out of my tavern? I don't make a habit of trusting musicians but seeing how we've been thrust together as we have, I'll just have to keep my eye on you until the deed's done. Now...you coming or not?" Pushing his mug back into his bag, he turns toward the door with a "Thank you kindly for your hospitality. I'll be taking my leave now. There's work to be done."
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Hutton Crowcreek (Human Fighter) - Curse of the Crimson Throne
Scene 4:
Brack looks at Zellara perplexed at the final reading. He speaks up after she finishes, asking, "Ma'am, yeh mentioned the Tyrant, but what about t'other two." He motions to The Brass Dwarf and Desert, though it is clear to see from his gaze that his interest is on the dwarven-based card. "Are they just complimentary or is there another deeper meaning 'ere like before, hm?"
Brack snorted at the others and bristled in his cloak, putting aside his pad and stencil, "Don't doubt that I 'aven't t'same determination as yeh in seeing Gaedran get what's been coming to 'im, that's for sure. But, we barely know each other save for t'mutual pasts we seem to share. Do yeh think we'd stand a chance just bumbling our way on up as a ragtag crew and expect to put the 'it on Gaedren as it is now, eh?"
He pulled back his hood, letting the torchlight bring his features into full focus, "If we're truly serious about this 'ere chance to right what's been wronged, then we ought to know what everyone's bringing to t'table and," He points the stencil across everyone in the room for emphasis, "knowing 'im, we best damn sure 'ave a plan."
Brack looks to the others, seeing if anyone would venture forth a counter to his suggestion.
"Well, if you want to be tactically sound I suppose it would be a grand idea. I am a cleric of the Lady of Graves, bearing her will and magics. The very line of life or death blur at her whim and fancy." Mazour placed his hand daintily on his chest as he spoke. When he paused he raised the reliquary like a badge of honor. He continued in his measured and breathy voice. "Aside from that, my dashing good looks and overwhelming charm there lies a heart of... true humility. I like long walks in the rain, a good drink and a fine meal. Add in a good song and I'm as happy as a halfling." The elf then glanced toward Brack with a wry grin and batted his eyes.