(Pathfinder) The Curse of the Crimson Throne IC

[Drothmal]

One way or the other, we should bring this to the Field-Marshal. If we try to do the blackmailing without an official backing, Amprel might decide just to hire someone to get rid of us replies the fencer, who, unless someone disagrees with going back to where Kroft is, will start heading back to the Citadel

[Leviathan]

The party makes its way uneventfully back to the Citadel. A veritable army of hired labour is working to clear the streets of debris, and it seems as though the city is returning to some semblance of normality, albeit with a heavy presence of Kroft's guards.

As you arrive at the fortress, Kalinda hangs back a bit. "Look," she says hesitantly. "We've done what we set out to do, and it feels damn good. But I want to sit on that feeling while I can, you know? I've done my part for now, and I'm gonna take my chance for a bit of peace before an offer comes in that's too good not to take. So I'll see you around, mates." The gunslinger nods by way of thanks, turns slowly, and trots off, duster coat swaying behind her.

The Field Marshal greets you as you enter her office. She seems more relaxed than you have seen her before, though this admittedly means less for the steely captain than it would for most others. "Ah, I assume you return successfully?" she says. "I haven't had any reports of a massacre at Eel's End, and my contact says that Barvasi is in good spirits, so I take it that everything has gone well?"

[Blisstake]

"We completed the assignment... there's not really much more I'd like to say than that," he states somewhat evasively, and reaches into his back to pull out the envelope.

"I think you might enjoy this," he says, handing the evidence over the the Field Marshall.

[Leviathan]

Kroft begins to read the letter, and, for the first time, you see a hint of a red flush to her cheeks. Her hand goes to her forehead, and she shakes her head. "This should do it. The 'honourable' Ambassador should stay within the bounds of his office from now on." She stands from her desk, clearing her throat.

In a formal voice she speaks. "You have all gone above and beyond the call of duty in this crisis, and the results of your efforts are worthy of recognition. I thus, in my official capacity as Korvosa's Field Marshal, bestow upon each of you a Pseudodragon's Mark." She nods to her aide, who seems slightly stunned at the news, but quickly draws from a cabinet fist-sized gold clasps, each bearing a circular design depicting two entwined pseudodragons. She takes them one at a time and solemnly bestows them on each of you. "Let this signet designate that the bearer is an honourable champion of Korvosa."

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You've all received a Pseudodragon's Mark - it will provide a +2 bonus on diplomacy checks if worn openly - and a reward of 200 gp each. As well, you have gained enough quest EXP to LEVEL UP. Welcome to illustrious level 3!

[Drothmal]

Rennard bows respectfully at the Field Marshall after receiving the accolade.

Thank you, ma'am the fencer says in his usual pragmatic tone

The duelist waits until all the group has received their rewards before changing the subject

Ma'am, I'd like to inquire if you were able to learn more about Vancaskerkin's operation and the victim that we found there. It worries me that whoever was pulling the strings was able to escape...

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan bows deeply, hands crossed over his chest. "Thank you, Lady Marshall. I will bear it with pride." He manages to make the words sound almost like a prayer. He removes the clasp currently holding his cloak in place and replaces it carefully with the one granted to him, then steps back. When Rennard asks his question, Dastan returns his full attention to Kroft, waiting for a reply.

[Leviathan]

Kroft grimaces at Rennard's question. "No, we haven't. He's disappeared into thin air. Worst of all is that, with all the dead and injured in the riots, the Bank of Abadar has informed me that it will be several months before they will be able to spare any useful magic for the investigation. But this isn't over. In my experience, they never are. This person had a reason for it, and he likely hasn't accomplished it, so the killings - or whatever is going on - will resume." She grimaces again, shaking her head, a fierce look in her eyes.

"But enough this. Sergeant Soldado has informed me that you are in possession of the Queen's Amulet. You should return this to her at Castle Korvosa as soon as you can."

"While you are there, is a task with which I would greatly appreciate your expertise. The riots may have ended, but the city is still a powder keg. A crowd has gathered outside the castle. They haven't been violent - yet - but it's only so long before things get out of hand. If I send my guards in force, it will be ugly. Maybe you could talk to them and try to diffuse things?"

[Blisstake]

Aldrin smiles at the request. "That should not be an issue. Persuasion is an area where we... err, where some us excel. It should be simple enough to prevent any riots from breaking out at the castle's doorstep. The dissappearace of the masked man is upsetting, however. His motives are an absolute mystery, so it will be exceedingly difficult to predict where he strikes next."

He thinks for a moment, trying to come up with a solution. When nothing comes to mind, he shakes his head, and continues, "I suppose we'll just have to keep eachother updated. Before we leave though, I wanted to-" before he can finish, he winces as a sharp pain shoots up his arm. He's a bit confused at the source of this pain, but shrugs it off and continues, "I wanted to ask if-" Aldrin is again interrupted by the pain in his arm that feels somewhat familiar... almost like burning. He gasps from the shock and then says to no one in particular, "N-never mind. Excuse me..."

Slowly walking out of the room, Aldrin heads off to the front gate of the citadel as the burning sensation spreads throughout his body. It wasn't his arm that was burning, but instead his blood. He knew that the infernal influence in his family would have some consequences, but he hadn't expected anything this painful. After a minute or so of this pain, it eventually dulls to a numb heat spread across his entire body. He takes a moment to make sure the pain doesn't return, and then looks back to the gate, hoping that none of his companions would press for any details.

OOC

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Basically, at level 3 Aldrin gains fire resistance and a bonus to saves. I thought I'd represent this by his blood altering itself to be more like a devil's, quickly burning away toxins and making Aldrin accustomed to the heat. Not trying to come off as a drama queen, sorry

[Drothmal]

Seeing the sorcerer leave abruptly, even Rennard's limited social skills realized that this might not be the be the most favorable way of partying ways with Kroft

Thank you ma'am. We'll see what we can do the fencer says while making a small bow and heading out of the room

When he catches up with Aldrin, the sorcerer seems to be as normal. If he does not volunteer any information, Rennard will not ask and just walk by his side in direction to the Castle

[RocketMan]

Jensi

The young oracle's head swivels back and forth between Field Marshall Kroft and Aldrin's retreating form with alarming frequency. He had wanted to thank Cressida for the insignia. It's really very pretty, he thinks to himself. He liked pseudodragons too - they used to live in small flocks over his old neighbourhood. Still, Jensi reasons, my friend looks like something's wrong.

Jensi hurries from the room, following Aldrin. "Are you alright?" he asks, concerned. "Can I help? I'm sure I can help, I mean, I hope I can since it seems like something is wrong. Is something wrong?"

[Blisstake]

When Jensi speaks to Aldrin, he startles slightly, and the sorcerer quickly responds, "No, Jensi, I think... ah, I'm good. You don't have to worry about me, all right? Rennard's the one you've got to watch out for, playing knife games and all that."

It was... touching, to use the word, that Jensi was concerned over his well-being, but also somewhat unexpected since Aldrin had to watch out for himself the last two years when he was on his own in the streets. Trying to not to make the young oracle feel bad, Aldrin continues with a smile, "Come, let's go see the Queen at the castle. Hah... I bet that's something you never thought you'd be able to say."

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan nods. "Certainly, Marshal. I will do my best to convince them that further violence will solve nothing. After all we've done to stop them, the very last thing this city needs is a resurgence in the riots." As Aldrin hastily makes his way from the room, Dastan shoots him a worried look. Quickly excusing himself, "By your leave, Marshal Croft.", he follows after.

Outside, he seems concerned at the sorceror's hasty dismissal of his condition. "Are you certain, Aldrin? We've been through quite a bit these last few days, and you may have contracted some sort of illness. Do not let pride stand in the way of your well-being." He blinks, then continues on a different topic, "Wait, knife games? Hmm... Never mind. If you insist you're alright, we should hurry to the castle. Give them enough time to work themselves into a frenzy and we'll never see the crowd dispersed without bloodshed."

[Leviathan]

The party arrives at Castle Korvosa after a walk that is much more leisurely than any other activity you've partaken of in the past few days.

The Castle is a structure of Chelish design: jutting, black stone turrets and walls surround the castle, all topped with majestic yet intimidating spines of dark marble. Yet the most prominent feature of the Castle is in fact not a part of it. It is, rather, the base upon which it sits: an enormous, ancient pyramid of Shoanti origin, which rises high above the rest of the city. Into this paths have been cut leading up to the gates.

It is on one of these paths that a large crowd has gathered. Several hundred strong at least, it is a milling sea of voices and people of all types. From the ragged poor, to drunken dockworkers, to well-to-do merchants, and even a few nobles, it seems as though all segments of society are represented.

The crowd parts as you make your way into it. All around you, people are talking, some angrily, some merely voicing speculations.

"They're saying the King was murdered, you know?" a bearded merchant with a plumed hat says, his voice tittering with anxiety.

"Yeah, I bet the Queen couldn't wait to get power..." a balding craftsman replies.

"I wouldn't put it past her. She's a schemer, no doubt about it."

A voice breaks into the conversation. It is a lilting one, rolling "r"s ever so slightly. "You are speaking nonsense, my good man. Remember, we are not here to call our Queen a murderer. We merely desire that she vow to remain faithful to her people." This speaker is a man with greying hair that seems to once have been a light shade of brown. He has thin eyebrows and lips, an angular nose, and grey, sympathetic eyes. His cloth is fine: a long, navy blue cape covers his shoulders, and under this he has a ruffled, high-collared tunic. At his side is an ornate thinblade.

Rennard

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This is Vencarlo Orisini.

"Well if she didn't do it, who did?" the craftsman argues weakly.

"It could be Blackjack," the nervous merchant says. "Nobody's heard of him for some time, and this is his sort of trouble."

The well-spoken man shakes his head. "The King was not worthy of high praise, perhaps, but I do not think Blackjack would see him dead."

The trio of speakers finally seem to notice you, and all eyes fall to your Pseudodragon's Marks. "You wish to enter the Castle, then?" Then the speaker's eyes fall on Rennard. "I see you have not failed to occupy yourself during these horrible riots," he says with a wry smile.

[Drothmal]

Upon seeing Orisini, a surge of emotion assails Rennard's mind. It had been a little over two days since the fencer had last seen his mentor, but so much had happened...

Do not let your emotions cloud your judgment. You know where that road leads to the duelist reprimands himself

"I see you have not failed to occupy yourself during these horrible riots," he says with a wry smile.

The fencer makes a deep bow, showing more respect for this man that he had done for anyone so far, including the field Marshall
Maestro the magus says in a tone that is mostly neutral, but with a slight tinge of emotion in it

I submit myself to any punishment you deem fit for having left the Academy without more notice.

After his speech, the duelist retrieves the scabbard where he holds his prized sword and holds it horizontal to the ground, as presenting the blade to the fencing master.

I, Rennard Balmont continues the magus, emphasizing his last name for no apparent reason will not bring any shame to my family's name




After this interaction with Vencarlo is finished, Rennard adds

Maestro, please let me introduce you to my companions. the fencer says while waving in the party's direction They were also wronged by the same man that took Reve from me and since I have met them they have proved themselves most honorable and resourceful

Maestro, if you can spare some of your time, there are a few things that I would like to ask you

If Vencarlo gives the opportunity for a private talk, Rennard will bring him up to speed on the events of the previous night in a very succinct manner(the demise of Lamn, the brooch, the events of the butcher's shop and the mysterious masked figure)

What do you make of all this, Maestro? who is this Blackjack that you mentioned? Could he be the man masked man we encountered?

[RocketMan]

Jensi

Jensi beams at Aldrin as he mentions the castle. "Oohh the castle! What do you think it's like? Do you think it's all black and spiky on the inside too? If I were the Queen, I don't think I would want a spiky castle - someone might trip and get hurt. Or a black one, since you might not be able to find your castle if you were trying to go home at night..." Jensi babbles happily at the sorcerer. The youth continues breathlessly as the party walks towards the castle. "... so I think that the huge Pyramid was so that the Shoanti could go up and see for miles and miles, and that's why the Queen built her castle there, so she would have a nice view from her window!"

Jensi listens with curiosity to the conversations of the protestors, winding his way effortlessly among them. Hearing the murder charge, Jensi gasps audibly. "No, you don't think the Queen would murder the King? That's not how it's supposed to work! Is it? And who's Blackjack?" He can't help feeling like he should know who Blackjack is, but try as he might he can't remember.

[Blisstake]

"In all likelyhood," Aldrin states darkly, "the King probably was murdered. I wouldn't jump to the conclusion that it's the Queen, but you never know."

As Rennard introduces the group to Orisini, Aldrin simply nods in acknowledgement, and shakes his head slightly when the fencer describes them being of "honorable" behavior.

I haven't the slightest idea why we're still alive.

[Leviathan]

"Rennard," Vencarlo says, amused, shaking his head; "You are not my prisoner, and you must always do what you think best. I see that in this case you have put ghosts to rest, and this is for the best."

Dastan, Aldrin

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Vencarlo hides it well, but he recognizes the sword Rennard presents to him, and knows more than he is letting on.

The distinguished duelist bows to the rest of the party. "I am honoured. But we must talk business. I have heard that you have distinguished yourself in the service of Korvosa; it is safe to assume, I take it, that you are here to disperse us? If so, I direct you to Masters Bartol and Gillenispie, who have been elected our delegates." He waves his hand in the direction of the men to whom he was talking. "Now, I will talk with my student."

"I am Master Gillenispie, of the merchant's guild," says one of the men, well-dressed in a puffy tunic with a wide white ruff around his neck, and a trim blond beard. "As a representative of these people, I'm afraid we simply can't leave now. We have requested an audience with the Queen to alleviate our concerns, but the captain of her personal guard will not even convey the message. We are, despite our peaceful assembly, 'a risk to the security of Her Royal Highness.'"

Rennard

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Vencarlo cross his arms over his chest, frowning in thought. "This is quite the tale. I had heard some rumours, but this is shocking. It is good that you have defeated Gaedren Lamm and recovered this blade; hopefully a shadow has now been lifted."

He pauses for a long time. "The blade's story might yet be incomplete. You have pressing business now, I am aware, but I wonder... When you return to the Academy, perhaps we shall see."

When you ask about Blackjack, the Maestro smiles. "Rennard, Rennard, Rennard... Sometimes you must listen to the tavern tales to learn, not just your books. Blackjack is a legend. He is a man, so it is said, masked, who represents the lifeblood of the city. He is its protector, according to the stories. Whether he is real... Well, he existed, once. But he has not been seen in ten years. Surely he must be dead."

His face darkens at the thought that Blackjack might be behind All the World's Meat. "Not once, in all the stories, does Blackjack do such deeds. Many men wear masks, Rennard; I would not put much stock in Blackjack's return at all, let alone contemplate his return as a villain."

[DaedalusMkV]

Dastan nods to Orsini, and replies warmly. "Rennard speaks well of you, Fencing Master. I'm glad to meet you in person, especially given the mess we may have dropped on you."

Dastan steps ahead of his companions, smiles sympathetically at the merchant and replies, though he seems a little bit distracted as his eyes scan the crowd. His tone starts out polite and friendly, bus slowly becomes more formal and matter-of-fact "Your concern is understandable, Master Gillenispie. These are uncertain times, and your worry for the future of this city is entirely justifiable, but you must see things from the other side of the issue. It's not been a day yet since the riots broke out, and we've yet to see the second sunrise since the King's death. Twelve hours ago, mobs of your neighbors were roaming the streets burning and pillaging." He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in.

"Now here you are, another crowd beseiging the palace and whispering of murders and treason. I know you have only the best of intentions, but your presence alone is a potential beacon to those who did violence not long ago. Never mistake, friends, this city is an alchemist's bomb and you and your friends are carrying a bright torch. Now is not the time for such displays, however noble the purpose." He says this with both finality and conviction, again pauses momentarily, then smiles and continues in his previous, friendlier tone. "Of course, there's no reason that all of you should leave. You've already elected a pair of representatives and decided on a message. Where a hundred are a threat, two are but petitioners. I'm certain that I can convince the Guards to listen to you, as long as the rest depart peacefully."

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Just before and during the initial portion of Dastan's little speech, he'll use Detect Evil to sweep the crowd, with the Move action to focus on it and pinpoint anyone who pings. While they're not necessarily guilty of poor intentions, it at least helps to pinpoint people who might potentially cause problems. He'll watch any such individual a little more closely.

The requisite Diplomacy check: (1d20+13)[28]

[Drothmal]

Rennard

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"The blade's story might yet be incomplete. You have pressing business now, I am aware, but I wonder... When you return to the Academy, perhaps we shall see."

Rennard resist an urge to ask more about the issue. Impatience is the sign of an undisciplined mind. The Maestro knew how important any information on the blade was for his student, if he thought it best to wait to talk about it, he must have a good reason...

"Rennard, Rennard, Rennard... Sometimes you must listen to the tavern tales to learn, not just your books. Blackjack is a legend. He is a man, so it is said, masked, who represents the lifeblood of the city. He is its protector, according to the stories. Whether he is real... Well, he existed, once. But he has not been seen in twenty years. Surely he must be dead."

His face darkens at the thought that Blackjack might be behind All the World's Meat. "Not once, in all the stories, does Blackjack do such deeds. Many men wear masks, Rennard; I would not put much stock in Blackjack's return at all, let alone contemplate his return as a villain."

My apologies, Maestro. I did not mean to speak ill of someone that has done no wrong. It seems that some of my new companions... the duelist pauses for a second, for he realized that this was the first time he had talked with Maestro about others. Pushing those thoughts aside, he continues are as interested as me in finding out who this masked man was. If we cross paths again, I'll make sure he cannot commit further atrocities and that, if he has taken the mantle of Blackjack, he is exposed as a fraud.

And, with a very serious expression, the magus adds I will take your advice to heart, Maestro, and try to broaden my studies outside of the academic Once again, the duelist had taken his instructor words literally and not as the jest that they were meant to be

Out of the corner of his eye, Rennard sees Dastan talking to the crowd. Deciding to continue his conversation with Orisini at another time, the fencer says

I appreciate your time, Maestro. But I should go back to my companions and return the Brooch. I will make my way back to the Academy as soon as I am able Rennard makes a deep bow to his mentor You have done so much for me. My life, and this Blade, will always be on your side

With that, the duelist makes his way back to the rest of the party

[Leviathan]

The merchant nods along as Dastan speaks, and Master Bartol, a balding man with a pair of spectacles on his prominent nose, does likewise.

"I suppose it is indeed true that we are acting very quickly..."

"We'll give the Queen some time to settle in, see how she does..."

"Yes. It is my belief that you are quite correct in your assessment, Master Greyson. We shall talk to our people and tell them to disperse, for now. We will not burden you with out presence if you go to the Castle; merely take this letter to the Queen. It details our concerns, but her guards feared it could contain some mischief, and so refused us. If Her Majesty is noble, she will know that her subjects are not so unkind if presented to her in person."

Dastan

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A few people in the crowd are very faintly evil - greedy, selfish, and the like - but none are strongly evil.

Vencarlo and Rennard return to the rest of the group. The two delegates of the protesters move off to talk to the crowds. Those close by who have already heard Dastan speak are departing even before the two men come to them.

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Minutes later, the group proceeds up the enormous Shoanti pyramid towards the Castle. The sandstone monolith proves to be just as tall as it looks, but eventually you come to the gates of Castle Korvosa.

Rennard

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You notice that the pyramid, though considered to be Shoanti in origin, bears even more ancient marks of the Thassilonian Empire. This is not the first time it has been repurposed by another culture, apparently.

You are quickly admitted by the guards at the gate when they notice your Pseudodragon's Marks, and when you state your purpose in the Castle. They escort you through winding halls, lined by closed oaken doors, narrow windows through which rays of light penetrate the Castle's inky exterior, and statues of warrior-kings and heavenly queens.

The throne room of Korvosa is an impressive sight. It is cavernous and long, with the feel of a cathedral about it. Black marble walls and pillars glisten with the light cast from a line of braziers that runs down the hall, flanking a plush carpet of deep crimson. At the end of the hall, a wide set of stairs leads to a raised dais, upon which sits the infamous Crimson Throne: an iron-wrought seat with splaying spines, draped in layers of blood-red velvet, that seems to exude an air of ominous power.

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The throne and the woman sitting upon it could not be more different. The Queen is slight of stature and angelically beautiful, with pale skin and flowing red hair. Her eyes are vibrantly blue, but shine with moisture as she sits upon the throne. She wears mourning clothes: a relatively simple black dress with silver filigree, and a translucent black veil, held in place by a pearly tiara. At her side, a woman in lustrous plate armour stands, taller than the queen, with a long, curved blade, its tip on the ground ceremonially, in hand.

The Queen speaks; her voice is gentle and soft, tinged with grief: "Good people, it heals my weary heart to see those who have done much for this city, but more than my heart, the city itself is in need of healing. So much blood has been spilt in my name" - she seems horrified at this idea - "that I fear we may never truly be the people we once were. I am thankful that there are those who value peace."

[RocketMan]

Jensi

Even Jensi is intimidated by the interior of Korvosa's castle. As the group enters, he follows in wide-eyed silence behind their escort. The youth even tries to walk quietly, as if his echoing footfalls would draw unwanted attention from the guards, suddenly bringing everyone back to their senses and throwing this Varisian beggar out of the castle. Despite the insignia pinned to his chest, Jensi feels like a criminal profoundly out of place and waiting to be caught. He trembles slightly whenever a noble passed by in the corridor.

You need to be brave; the past is the past, it follows you here only if you allow it to do so. Jensi nods imperceptibly.

The throne room is, if anything, more awing than the rest of the castle. Jensi listens to the Queen speak - she's not nearly as scary as the youth had imagined, and he can't see why there were riots over her ascension. He likes Ileosa better than Eodred, Jensi decides.

When she finishes, Jensi steps forward with a gulp, battling back the tempest of butterflies in his stomach. "Your grace - or, wait, is that right? Your majesty? Your highness? We, um, we're here because we found an amulet that belongs to you. A bad man had it, but it's very pretty so we thought you would want it back." He offers a faint smile. He hopes you're allowed to smile at royalty.

[Leviathan]

The Queen's bodyguard scowls at Jensi, her black eyes aflame at what she presumes to be the boy's impudence. The Queen, however, smiles vibrantly and lets out a light-hearted laugh. "I have always found formality to be just a formality. If my people do not know the proper term, let that be no hindrance."

He smile fades, however, at the mention of her amulet, and her eyes go misty, watering. She speaks quietly, he voice choking up: "My late husband gave this amulet to me on our wedding day... I had thought it gone forever... I do not know how to thank you enough..." She pauses, then speaks again; it seems as though she has been wanting to say this for a long time. "I love him, you know. They say I didn't, but I did. I did not want him to die; I'd hoped to live in peace with him. Now he is gone to what I dearly hope is an eternal realm more appreciative of him than this one."

She takes a deep breath, recovering a somewhat more regal bearing. "I am personally very grateful to you. This amulet is of great sentimental value to me, and I will reward you accordingly." She gestures to a liveried servant, who approaches with a book of fine vellum. She takes a peacock feather quill and writes something on the paper, which the servant then carries down to you.

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It is a decree to the Bank of Abadar to reward the bearers with 2,000 gp each from the Queen's personal funds. She has signed it in flowing script at the bottom. For simplicity's sake, I'll assume you go at some point, so just take the gold now.

[Blisstake]

We really are going to see the Queen. My life sure has turned around fast.

As he walks through the monolithic pyramid, he eyes the Thassilonian architecture and runes with genuine curiousity. It is unsettling to walk among corridors so ancient, and Aldrin can't help but wonder if there are any traps still active within, just waiting to be set off if they take a single wrong step. Before passing the threshold leading to the Castle's throne room, the sorcerer performs the gestures to a simple spell of magical awareness. With this, he hopes to sate his curiosity of knowing the Crimson Throne is truly cursed, or if it's just another curse brought upon by the misdeeds of man. However, if the guards in the escort attempt to prevent this incantation, Aldrin will comply.

When inside the throne room, in the presense of the Queen herself, Aldrin is taking back by her sincerity. All of the notions about her scheming and selfishness seemed to evaporate away as soon as she spoke those soft words.

Then again, he thinks, The craftiest of statesmen are often the ones who come to power. This could be a ploy... let's hope not.

Aldrin takes the note from the scribe, and stares at the figure silently before eventually slipping it away, and addressing the ruler of Korvosa. "I thank you for your generosity, your majesty," he begins, fairly certain "your majesty," is, indeed, the correct way to address her, "We wish only to serve Korvosa and her people, and restore the city to order; a feat which is well underway, I hope. If there are any tasks in service of this city that need attention, say only the word, and we shall act." He bows down, and then tentatively continues, "As... as a personal inquiry, I wish to know if you would permit me to ask Your Majesty a question. How is it that the amulet came into the possession of crimelord such as Lamm?"

[Leviathan]

"Of course," Queen Ileosa says with a gentle smile. "I do not know how it came to be in the hands of a wicked man. I remember its loss clearly: it had fallen, and so I sent it with one of my handmaidens to the jeweller who made it to repair the clasp. It never returned. My husband wanted to punish the jeweller, who insisted it had been stolen from him at the point of a knife, but I saw in the poor man no lie. Perhaps it was this Lamm who took it." She looks down at it happily, wiping her eyes with her hand.

"You have done so much already," the Queen says appreciatively, "and I am in awe that you would yet do more. But if you are truly willing - for I would not coerce you - there is a matter of some concern which I address as my next audience. If you would care to do so, I would welcome your presence."

[DaedalusMkV]

Unlike Jensi, Dastan very much does believe in formalities. Upon entering the throne room he strides purposefully to a respectful distance and bows to the new queen, though he quickly stands up after her own response to the Varisian Oracle. A faint expression of surprise lingers on his face for a brief moment; clearly this youthful, passionate girl is not what he was expecting to find. Nonetheless, when he speaks his words and tone are respectful, as he was trained by his tutors in Absalom. "I thank you for your generousity and your praise, your Highness. I do what I can for the people of this city, in the name of Iomedae. If there is anything I can do to help, I will." Unlike the others the Paladin doesn't seem to be particularly awed by the throne room's architecture. Impressive as it is, nothing in the world can compare to the imposing majesty of the Ascendant Court he spent most of his early life in. After a moment of deliberation, he reaches into a pouch and removes the letter he was given by Gillenispie outside. "If you will, your Highness, I was asked to convey this to you by several concerned citizens. I do not know the content, but I did give my word that I would see their message delivered."

[Leviathan]

The Queen's radiant smile turns on Dastan as he speaks. "Iomedae bless you then, and may She bless us all."

Upon mention of Gillenispie's letter, Ileosa gestures for her servant to retrieve it. The man does so, then returns to the Queen, bowing as she takes it from him and delicately opens it. Her eyes scan the document, and her gaze, if possible, softens.

"I had feared that the people outside my doors had planned to do more harm to the peace of the city. I can see now that this is not their intent." She looks at you all, explaining. "They wish me to renew my pledge of loyalty to Korvosa, and promise I to you that I shall do so."

The Queen's bodyguard, until now silent, speaks. "Your Majesty, Field Marshal Kroft and the Shoanti Ambassador are in your council chambers."

Ileosa nods. "Yes, I will see them now." She turns back to you, her blue eyes fixing on you each one at a time.

Aldrin

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It might be your imagination, but the Queen seems to do a double take when she sees you.

"Come, my friends; I fear this meeting will be a difficult one, and I would deeply appreciate your aid.

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I'm going to assume you go with her.

The council chamber is a round room, its walls a deep obsidian, like the rest of the palace. They are adorned with tapestries and the banners of long dead Korvosan generals and nobility. A round table sits in the centre of the room, its surface waxed so that the reflections of the ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling seems to dance across it.

Already in the room upon your arrival is the familiar Cressida Kroft. She looks visibly worried, and paces up and down. Near her is a man, seated in a chair, who is so still and silent that he appears almost statue-like. He is rail-thin, with coffee-coloured skin that is wrinkled with age. His cloth is a similar colour, and is adorned by countless animal bones, many painstakingly scrawled with tiny glyphs. A bearskin cloak is draped around his bony shoulders. Most notable is that his face has been painted decoratively into the image of a skull.

Ileosa calmly surveys the man, then sits in her chair, which is larger than the rest. "Cressida, if you would?"

The Field Marshal clears her throat. "Your Majesty, I present to you Thousand-Bones, Way-Keeper for the Skoan-Quah."

The stranger inclines his head and makes a ritualized hand gesture. When he speaks, it is calm and controlled, but with an underlying frustration. "Queen Ileosa. My people have worked hard to understand yours, yet each day new examples of how your people foster old hatreds can be seen."

His voice takes on a quiet anger. "The son of my son is dead, beaten to death by cowards in your streets the day before last. I do not blame you, but still he is dead, and my son and his kin are not so forgiving as I. They wish to return to the Skoan-Quah in the Cinderlands, to join with the Sklar-Quah and rally to war against Korvosa. This would be disastrous for both our peoples. Amends must be made."

His tone becomes one of instruction, though still masking sadness and anger. "Our ways are not as yours. If a body does not go whole to the fires of the gods, the smoke of a warrior's spirit cannot rise to the Great Sky. If the son of my son's body could be sent to the Great Sky with honour and dignity, his father and brothers would listen to me and stay their wrath."

"But he was not simply murdered. His body was taken to the boneyard and thrown into the Dead Warrens, where only the lowest of your land are taken. It falls to you to make amends in the only way left to you, Queen Ileosa."

The Queen sighs. "I am truly sorry for your loss, Thousand-Bones. I have myself felt the pain of it. We will do all we can. Cressida, can your guards handle this?"

The Field Marshal grimaces, but, with her customary frankness - and perhaps even a hint of irreverence - she replies. "Your Majesty, my guards have taken the brunt of the rioting. And we've had disturbing reports from the Dead Warrens. Even the Cathedral of Pharasma has abandoned that area of the Grey district. We can do it, but we might lose good people."

[Blisstake]

Then we'll just have to lose bad people?

Aldrin clears his thoat and addresses Thousand-Bones. "If no one else shall, then I volunteer on behalf of Korvosa to recover the body of your son's son so that you may perform the necesary ritual to send his spirit to the Great Sky. Would us traveling to one of the most dangerous locations in this city to seek out the body of one of your tribesmen prove that we take our diplomatic relationship seriously?"

While he tries to come off as reasonable, Aldrin does not have the highest regards for the Shoanti. This meeting certainly was not helping matters, since it appears as if the clans would go to war over a rather ridiculous belief of theirs because some person, possibly not even affiliated with Korvosa at all, failed to properly dispose of a single corpse. Still, if they could prevent the savages from uprising, it would give them a much better chance of settling down the city in preperation of its new leader.

[Leviathan]

Thousand-bones looks intently at Aldrin; his skull-like facepaint makes this disconcerting. "Does this man speak for you, Queen Ileosa?" the Shoanti elder asks.

Ileosa smiles gratefully at Aldrin. "He has my complete trust in this, and I am certain he shall not fail. His companions have my blessing also to proceed."

Thousand-Bones nods slowly. "The spirits recognize him, and the others, as your champion in this. Their success is your success; their failure is your failure."

The shaman stands slowly. "You will know the body by its ritual markings. None other of our people have died here in some time, so there will be no mistakes." With an inclination of his head towards the Queen, the elder stalks off.

The Queen sighs as Thousand-Bones departs. She looks pleadingly at Aldrin, and then to any others who take up the call. "Thank you, truly. I cannot possibly thank you enough. Nor can Korvosa."

Ileosa pauses, taking another curious look at Aldrin. "Cressida, I would like to talk to this gentleman in the hallway. Would you please tell the others all you know about their task?"

Aldrin

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Upon closing the door to the council chamber, the Queen gazes intently at you. "Aldrin Cress is your name, is it not, good sir? I had not thought to find one of our nobility in so active a role."
Then her tone grows somber and comforting. "I have heard of the unfortunate arrest of your family; I am sorry. I do not wish to create undue hardship, but there is something you must know: Amongst the names of those who will soon be tried with the penalty of execution, submitted to me by the Hellknights, were those of your family. I do not know how to ease the blow, but I could not let you remain ignorant of their fates." Her blue eyes are wells of sympathy for you.

The others

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The Field Marshal sighs. "As if I didn't have enough problems, the Shoanti decide that their honour has been slighted, and then off you go to the graveyard because one of their warriors was too stupid to get off the streets during a riot, too slow to run away, and evidently a mediocre warrior too."

"But orders are orders, and I'm sure you'll be compensated. The Queen is very generous to her friends. At any rate, there's not much to tell: we don't know what, if anything, is in the Dead Warrens, but the Pharasman priests send in only large patrols, and the gravediggers don't go there at all - they just throw the bodies down into the Warrens without entering."

[Blisstake]

Somewhat confused why the Queen wanted to speak with him, Aldrin shrugs and followers her into the hallway. When she reveals that his family is up for execution, his mouth gapes open slightly, stunned by this new information. He can't formulate a basic response for a good minute.

"I... wh-when is the execution? Where?"

His mind races through possibilities. Should he try and halt the execution? That would surely be suicidal, but there was no reasoning with the damn Hellknights. Maybe... no, he couldn't bring the others to help, and if he died, what the hell would the rest of the group be able to accomplish?

What are we even trying to accomplish now?

This whole time his fists are clenched, shaking as the sorcerer begins to lose control of his rationality. The blood inside him flares up again, but the pain is just a prick compared to the deep emotional stab the Queen's news brought to him.

[Leviathan]

Aldrin

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Ileosa looks apologetic, and her hand comes to rest on the yours comfortingly. "There is no date yet. It will take place upon the capture of the King's killer. That could be months or days."

She takes another look at you. "We are both misunderstood, Aldrin, both hated despite who we are. I know your pain, and I beg of you, do not go to your grave over this."

"Understand, Aldrin, that I cannot pardon the guilty, but I will do as much as is otherwise within my power to help you. Be strong, Aldrin, but I do not want you to walk this path alone."