Re: (Pathfinder) The Curse of the Crimson Throne IC
Mere seconds after Rennard finishes speaking, a shadow crosses the doorway, and the silhouette of a rail-thin woman can be seen, leaning on a cane. She steps over the threshold, and you get a better look at her.
She is elderly, and it shows: her face is gaunt and criss-crossed with wrinkles, and her right eye is clouded with cataracts. About her body is draped a shawl that might once, long ago, have been colourful, but now has taken on a uniform, greyish colour. Her white hair is drawn back into a bun, but strands have escaped their confinement, and fall about her face in all directions.
She takes you in for a long moment, then speaks. "And now you have met me, Rennard Balmont." The words have a surprising lightness to them, given her age.
"Now you have all met me, for you are all here... Good, good. My cards have called you here... They are you as you are," she says, her voice taking on a strange certainty. "The Tyrant, the Mute Hag, the Crows, the Snakebite, the Cyclone, the Demon's Lantern."
She gives you a toothless smile. "But I am rude to my guests: sit, sit! My humble food is yours." Without even looking to see if you sit, she continues.
"Gaedren Lamm sent you those cards, not I." Her good eye shines with an almost mischievous glint. "Well, I did the sending, but the images upon the cards are the fates to which Gaedren Lamm has condemned you, so he is the sender. In a way."
She pauses for a moment, then seems to recall the point of all this. "Since you are eager to be rid of his evil, and I wish him nothing but death, I called you here. I may seem an old bat, but I had my reasons: I know where Gaedren Lamm dwells. 'Tis an old fishery, along the docks of Old Korvosa. He is crafty, and never in the same place for long. But Zellara - that's my name," she adds, as an afterthought, "is also crafty. He will be there, tonight. This is your chance for vengeance."
Last edited by Leviathan : 06-29-2011 at 09:06 PM.