The door opens and an attractive middle-aged Varisian woman with long dark hair walks in, a basket filled with mushrooms and other vegetables under one arm. Her eyes light up when she sees the four of you have already arrived, smiling at each of you in turn.
"Mister Pickett, so good that you have chosen to come. Don't frown so much, you'll get wrinkles.
Jeffa, Apologies for being so late. There is trouble in the air and the people are agitated.
Tolvek, Erastil has much use for that sword of yours. Don't let your life go to waste.
Ahh. Miss Lialvia. You see much more than most. Do no be afraid, we are all friends here."
She quickly sits at the table and motions for you to join her on one of the other four chairs. As she speaks she takes the Harrow deck and begins to shuffle, the cards seem to float and dance over her hands and the table. Patterns form in the air as the cards twirl, from one hand to the other, sliding across the table from one stack to the next. Her eyes are on you as she speaks, shining with warmth and hope.
“Thank you for coming, my friends, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you. I have reason to remain hidden, you see—a terrible man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This is a man you know, for he has done something terrible to each of you as well. I speak, of course, of Gaedren Lamm, a man whose cruelty and capacity to destroy the lives of those he touches are matched only by his gift for avoiding reprisal.
You see, a year ago, his thieves stole this, my Harrow deck, from me. It is important to me, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, and also my sole means of support. When pickpockets stole it, my son, Eran, tracked them down. The thieves were in the employ of Gaedren Lamm, and in reward for finding them, Gaedren murdered my son."
Here she pauses, catching her breath. She is still visibly shaken by the loss of her son.
Re: CotCT game 3
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