Edge of Anarchy: Harrowing Fortunes

Zen Gypsy · March 3

As six strangers, bound by strands of fate and destiny, converged upon the enigmatic address of 3 Lancet Street, the atmosphere in East Shore charged with anticipation echoed the impending storm, resonating with the foreshadowing of chaos and the murmurings of regicide within Korvosa. Finding themselves standing before a quaint curio shop with an intriguing display of various trinkets and mystical oddities in the window, the strangers were drawn by an air of mystery and charm, with esoteric items arranged in an almost mesmerizing fashion. The signage above the door read "Zellara's Wonders" in elegant, swirling letters, and candlelight flickered, twisting the curios' silhouettes with dancing shadows, making them leer and jeer through the dimly illuminated window.

Caltrix, with her halfling stealth, chose a vantage point in a nearby warehouse, keenly observing the facade of the curio shop named 'Zellara's Wonders.' The stormy air held an air of uncertainty, and Caltrix couldn't shake the feeling that the quiet surroundings were concealing more than met the eye. The Harrow card, a symbol of a clandestine connection, fueled her vigilance, and she awaited any sign of movement, both inside and outside the mysterious establishment.

Aquila, unaccustomed to clandestine approaches, navigated the streets with determination. Her journey brought her to Lancet Street, where she faced the looming structure of 3 Lancet Street. The touch of the Harrow card served as a tangible reminder, grounding her in the reality of the mysterious summons. As she approached the entrance, a mix of apprehension and curiosity marked her demeanor.

Ionacu, with the watchful eyes of a raven, observed the events unfolding on Lancet Street. His presence was enigmatic, and a young man, dressed in smart evening attire, approached him. A polite inquiry hung in the air, suggesting a shared purpose. The raven's gaze flicked between the sylph woman and the entrance of 3 Lancet Street, an unspoken agreement guiding their next steps.

Ihrin, draped in the cloak of anonymity provided by her mask, approached the house with a sense of purpose. The mask, a symbol of her theatrical artistry, hinted at the dramatic confrontation awaiting within. The stage was set, and Ihrin embraced her role as both performer and avenger.

Valerica's internal struggle reflected the weight of her mission. The specter of Gaedren Lamm loomed large, spurring her resolve. The Harrow card in her hand became a symbolic compass, guiding her steps toward the foreboding address. With a firm conviction to end the threat posed by Lamm, Valerica entered the threshold, ready for whatever awaited her inside.

Entering Zellara's Wonders, she found herself enveloped by a fragrant haze of flowers and spice. The air was thick with the sweet scent of incense, its tendrils wafting from ornate burners resembling butterfly-winged elves mounted on the walls. The smoke wove through the room, lending it a dreamy, mysterious atmosphere.

The shop itself was a tapestry-laden haven, each fabric telling its own tale. One tapestry portrays a black-skulled beast engaged in the macabre act of juggling human hearts, while another depicts angels gracefully dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. The third tapestry on the far wall unveils a tall, hooded figure shrouded in mist, cradling a flaming sword in a skeletal hand. A beaded curtain behind the glass-topped counter rustled in the wind, the beads clicking against one another, click-click-click. A hall extended beyond with what appeared to be a large table set with high-backed chairs arrayed around it.

As the disparate threads of fate converged upon 3 Lancet Street, the characters stood on the precipice of a shared destiny, unknowingly drawn together by the threads of a Harrow reading and the specter of an imminent storm in Korvosa.

As the storm clouds gathered overhead, the atmosphere within Zellara's Wonders became charged with an otherworldly energy. Lira, wrapped in her mother's kapenia, felt a connection to something beyond the veil of the material world. Memories of her mother's teachings in Harrow reading flooded her senses, and the room seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow.

Amidst the faint scent of incense and the comforting aroma of her mother's cooking, a subtle whisper of wind carried the patter of raindrops on broken glass. In that gentle murmur, Lira discerned a familiar voice—a whisper of "Daughter" echoing through the room. The kapenia, adorned with intricate patterns of purples, yellows, and blues, whispered tales of generations past, binding Lira to her Varisian heritage.

Seated at the table, Lira pressed the kapenia against her face, absorbing the familiar scent that carried echoes of her childhood. Suddenly, the room shifted. The walls, once draped with brocaded tapestries, transformed into a familiar setting—a humble home in Old Dock, filled with the laughter of a young Lira and her brother.

Yet, beneath this facade of warmth, the emptiness of abandonment lingered, casting a shadow over the cherished memories. The tapestries on the walls told a different story now, one of loss, regret, and a yearning for justice.

Amidst the visions, Lira felt a subtle resonance, a connection to others outside the realm of her own experiences. A subtle pulse echoed through the threads of fate, and her mother's presence guided her senses toward the approaching strangers.

the Locksmith, stationed outside, observed with keen eyes, while the Inquisitor and Wanderer engaged in conversation, their anticipation palpable. The Owl, marked by wisdom, entered with purpose, the Courtesan kept a vigilant watch, and the Survivor lingered in the distance, cautious in the face of unseen trials.

As Lira perceived these unknown entities, her senses tingled with a shared destiny, a convergence of paths that would intertwine in the impending storm. The kapenia embraced her, a conduit between the past and the present, leading her toward a destiny woven with threads of mystery, vengeance, and the enigmatic forces that lurked in the shadows of Korvosa. The familiar bell rang, announcing the arrival of someone, yet unknown, in Zellara's Wonders.

Edited March 7 by Zen Gypsy (see edit history)

Vedast · March 3

Caltrix Nimblesquirl
Twilight Halfling; Acrobat; Rogue (Thief; 1); (TBA) Archetype; Harrow Card: 'The Locksmith'

HP: 15/15 | AC:17: Explorer's | Speed: 25' |Senses: Low-light vision; Keen Eyes | Lang: Common; Halfling; Gnome; Varisian

Perception (E): +7 | Fort (T): +4 | Ref (E): +9| Will (E): +7 |

"Others like you."

Caltrix noted the approach of a number of others from her window eyrie.

One, sporting a shock of multicolored hair and what must be face paint, seemed more wary: he'd passed by the address and circled back. Good, she thought. Well, her own locks would be considered vibrant by any but a full-blooded gnome, so she observed this with a degree of sympathetic feeling. Yet, surely the bulky character was no gnome and he moved with a certain hint of menace. Maybe a bouncer? she surmised.

Other than the mixed group now before the door of Zellara's Wonders, most pedestrians had, seemingly, found it prudent to wait out the storm indoors. The birds of the city seemed ready to take shelter for the night - several were clustered about the rooftops nearby. Even they found the brooding storm unsettling, so it appeared.

She made her way down to floor level; out of the warehouse; and approached #3. She quickly appraised the five who had begun to enter. Whether working in the Circus; or the gambling and games rooms for the Cerulean Society or, more recently, earning a scrap to live on whilst performing game tricks and minor feats of acrobatics, assessing people was a way of staying alive and in coin. It was second nature to her.

The blue-skinned one was perhaps the most visually unique. Sylph blood perhaps? The building storm would not unsettle her. The human male was dressed to proclaim a certain social rank and status: she had to resist the impulse to think of him as a 'mark.' And his eyes were ... full of arcane or occult mystique. The strongly built and well armed human woman seemed a mixture of concern and eagerness: but to Caltrix' eye, she bore her weapons well. The masked woman seemed a type familiar to the former circus performer -- the Circus that had employed Caltrix as a acrobat had included plays and theater performances as well as other entertainments. Masks could both disguise and reveal.

And the more cautious one: indeed, not a gnome. Smaller than a typical half-orc, she judged, perhaps a second generation from a half-orc community? At least she wouldn't be looking up a hulking giant well over 6' tall, she thought with some relief.

First impressions were important, she knew: they could also be dangerous and misleading.

She crossed the street to approach - moving quietly even without precautions. She held her Harrow Card in her right hand ... in case this were necessary to establish her bona fides.

Looking up to the foreboding sky, quickly darkening, she quickened her pace slightly.

The Strong Woman had entered by the time Caltrix reached the steps: the Blue One and the Esoteric Man exchanged a few words with the former entering on the heels of the first.

Words of greeting could wait until the group was inside.

OOC

I edited the last few lines since it seems Valerica and Aquila would have just entered before Caltrix would join.

ACTIONS

Edited March 4 by Vedast (see edit history)

VennDygrem · March 3

Aquila had been lost in thought since before finding the harrow card brought to her on the wind, and that didn't change now. She hadn't noticed the one person who breezed past her and entered their apparently shared destination, and now she is startled as another figure approaches and addresses her directly. Thrown off-guard, she snaps back to reality and blinks away her miasmic daydreaming.

"What? Oh... I guess you must have gotten one of these 'calling cards' as well?"

As she responds to the young man, others begin gathering as well. The first person had the right idea. With so many now crowding the entrance to Zellara's Wonders, it was bound to attract attention before too long.

"Yes, I suppose we should enter."

Grabbing the door handle, she sweeps inside list a gust of wind, wisps of mist trailing from her cloud-like hair.

'If these are meant to be others like me,' she ponders, 'What does that say about me? Nevermind that, they must have also been wronged by Lamm. Having other folk to broaden the search could be very useful, even if some of them draw more attention to themselves than others...'

Her thoughts once again returning to the present, she reaches out behind her to catch the falling door and hold it open for those behind her.

OOC & Actions

N/A

saithor · March 4

Ihrin

Human• Entertainer • Maestro Bard 1
Medium • Chaotic Good • Humanoid

I feel ridiculous Ihrin thought as she approached the house. The theatrical costume, the mask, had she thought she was coming her to do a performance?

It was too late to change any of that though. None of the others who had entered the house seemed as flamboyantly clothed as her. She'd definitely overdressed. Never mind that. Stop thinking, start doing.

Forcing down the butterflies in her throat, Ihrin strode through the door of the house. It was hard to see out of those mask but she could make out the four already in here well enough. They all looked far more experienced than she was. Probably best not to admit she was a second rate cutpurse turned entertainer. At least she was practiced at hiding her apprehension. "Good evening. I presume we are all here for the same reason?"

Actions:

OOC

Gnaws · March 4

Valerica Radache
Human (Versatile)Humanity's versatility and ambition have fueled its ascendance to be the most common ancestry in most nations throughout the world. Select a general feat of your choice for which you meet the prerequisites.; ArtisanAs an apprentice, you practiced a particular form of building or crafting, developing specialized skill. You might have been a blacksmith's apprentice toiling over the forge for countless hours, a young tailor sewing garments of all kinds, or a shipwright shaping the hulls of ships.

Choose two ability boosts. One must be to Strength or Intelligence, and one is a free ability boost.

You're trained in the Crafting skill and the Guild Lore skill. You gain the Specialty Crafting skill feat.; Ranger (Precision; 1); (TBA) Archetype; Harrow Card: 'The Owl'

HP: 20/20 | AC:18 | Speed: 30'+5' from Fleet |Senses: Normal | Lang: Common; Dwarven

Perception (E): +7 | Fort (E): +6 | Ref (E): +9| Will (T): +5 |

| SkillsTrained:
Acrobatics (+7); Crafting (+3); Lore/Guild (+3); Medicine (+5); Nature (+5); Society (+3); Stealth (+7); Survival (+5)

Untrained:
Arcana (+0); Athletics (+2); Deception (+0); Diplomacy (+0); Intimidation (+0); Occultism (+0); Performance (+0); Religion (+2); Thievery (+4) | AttributesSTR +2 [14]
DEX +4 [18]
CON +1 [12]
INT +0 [10]
WIS +2 [14]
CHA +0 [10] | AttacksUnarmed:

Fist +7 (Dex 4; Trained 3); 1d4+2 B (Crit 2d4+4); Agile; Finesse; Nonlethal; Unarmed

Melee:

Shortsword +7 (Dex 4; Trained 3); 1d6+2 P/S (Crit 2d6+4); Agile; Finesse; Versatile S.

Ranged:

Shortbow +7 (Dex 4; Trained 3); 1d6 P (Crit 2d6+1d10); Deadly d10; Range 60' | Precision Damage+1d8

You have trained to aim for your prey’s weak points. The first time you hit your hunted prey in a round, you also deal 1d8 additional precision damage. (Precision damage increases the damage you already deal, using the same type, but is ineffective against creatures that lack vital organs or weak points.) |Hero Pts.Heroic Effort: When you Fail or Critically Fail any, non-secret, check you may spend a Hero Point and improve your degree of Success by a single step, a Critical Failure becomes a Failure, and a Failure becomes a Success
.
Heroic Recovery: At the end of any turn in which you would gain the Dying condition, or your current Dying condition would increase you may spend a single Hero Point to stabilize with zero Hit Points. You do not gain the Wounded condition or increase it's value from losing the Dying condition in this way, but if you already had that condition, you don't lose it or decrease it's value.

Undying Heroism: At the start of any turn in which you have zero Hit Points and are not currently Dying you may spend a single Hero Point to recover a number of Hit Points equal to your level.: 1

Valerica hadn't moved any further into the building; the silence weighing around her and reinforcing her nerves about this whole thing being some elaborate setup. Then the door had opened behind her and she turned, watching as several others made their way into the room. In their looks she saw her own nervousness and hesitations reflected, but also that hard gleam of determination. The 'others' that the note had mentioned, surely; brought together by that single name. Gaedren Lamm. If Lamm had impacted even this handful of others the same way that he had herself, then Valerica's heart bled for them. How many other lives had the villain destroyed?

The number of them gave her confidence; strength in numbers, after all. Valerica's attention snapped back as an oddly dressed woman spoke.

Val smiled. "Hi, uhm, good evening. Yes, I think so. There's no one here, though; I'm not sure if we're supposed to just wander in?"

Calm down, Val. Take a breath. She did, and then awkwardly extended a hand.

"I'm Val. Valerica. My friends call me Val."

You're implying that they're not your friends.

She shook her head slightly, closing her eyes. Opened them again. "Sorry, I'm a bit nervous. I don't do this often?"

Now you're implying that they do do this often. Val ignored her thoughts but kept her mouth shut this time, letting her hand continue to hang awkwardly outstretched in the air.

OOC

ACTIONS

Whitehart09 · March 5

Carthen

With a grunt the half-orc steps forward, possibly bumping others in his way as he heads around the counter and through the beads, "Move aside waifs, we don't have all night. I am a busy man and Lamm won't get what's coming to him if we all stand around stuttering at each other."

He all but stomps down the hallway to the backroom, taking a seat that can hopefully see all the exits/entrances.

OOC and Actions

Carthen Brisbane-------------------------
HP: 20 (20 base)
AC: 17

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Ongoing Effects and Daily Use Things

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Thramzorean · March 5

Ionacu Davian HP: 16/16 Saves: Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 6 AC: 15, Perception: 4, Speed: 25 '

The young man with the black raven on his shoulder watched with no attempt to hide his astonishment at the assortment of individuals that had arrived at the address and proceeded inside.

There was a shrug, expecting the unexpected from a tarot card get-together was hardly a stretch.

With great curiosity Ionacu walked into the mansion, carefully observing the decor. He considered the images the tapestries depicted then passed with the others into the room with the table, to stand behind one of the high back chair and then state.

"Good evening all. My name is Ionacu."

Edited March 5 by Thramzorean (see edit history)

Vedast · March 5

Caltrix Nimblesquirl
Twilight Halfling; Acrobat; Rogue (Thief; 1); (TBA) Archetype; Harrow Card: 'The Locksmith'

HP: 15/15 | AC:17: Explorer's | Speed: 25' |Senses: Low-light vision; Keen Eyes | Lang: Common; Halfling; Gnome; Varisian

Perception (E): +7 | Fort (T): +4 | Ref (E): +9| Will (E): +7 |

Caltrix mounted the stairs to the entrance of Zellara's Wonders, 3 Lancet Street, in the wake of the flamboyantly haired half-orc who had made his way through the foyer and into a larger space beyond as though he'd walk through a wall rather than allow himself to be diverted to use an inconveniently placed doorway.

Before closing the door, she checked lest others were arriving. As the street seemed, still, a bit preternaturally quiet, she shut the door quietly and, pondering for a moment, closed any obvious latch or bolt.

The many curios and objects of interest in the store immediately clamored for her attention. Though she'd been obliged to use her skills to purloin any number of coins and curiosities over the past few weeks, she wasn't a kleptomaniac. Oh, she admitted that the challenge of the act was intoxicating and, possibly, addicting, but whilst she pondered any number of meals so near to hand, she firmly resisted the temptation. Besides, there were far too many inquisitive eyes.

"I'm Val. Valerica. My friends call me Val."

The others looked like the fabled parted sea ... no doubt from the passing of the one she originally thought of as the Cautious One, but whom she might now label "The Cutwater." He seemed to have strode past The Strong Woman - Valerica - and around the shop counter into a room beyond: maybe at an invitation, perhaps on his own initiative?

She made a closer inspection of the others as they turned to follow The Cutwater into the room beyond,

The Blue One
The Strong Woman
The Mask
The Esoteric Man (whose eyes - and that of the raven - she noted with interest: was he the Card Harrower?)

"Good evening all. My name is Ionacu," the latter, introducing himself.

Caltrix examined this room closely, most immediately for any means of egress. One always sought for ways into and out of a place.

The Cutwater was already seated ... impatiently so, or, at least, so he made it appear. This pose of a brusque facade might be as much of a mask as that worn by the theatrical one. He had selected his seat wisely to surveil the room. Caltrix looked at the chairs ... well, one could hardly expect a halfling-sized bit of furniture. Her people only constituted 3% of the Korvosan population (though prominent in the shipping industry - thus her use of nautical expressions).

She glanced about, finally spotting a pair of finely embroidered cushions: she walked around next to The Cutwater; adroitly hopped up the chair (she was used to doing so); placed her cushions; and sat; purposely flashing a smile at the painted face adjacent.

Caltrix, she announced. The LOCKSMITH.

She wondered what impact, if any, this gambit would effect?

PS Late Add: Would like to make some sort of Lore Check to recognize the figures on the tapestries. I'm not a big fan of rolling all four of arcana/nature/occultism/religion in hopes of a good roll, so I'll try Occultism here, albeit with only a +2 modifier. I doubt any of my three specific lore subjects would apply. -- well, meh.

OOC

I'm assuming that Caltrix cannot yet see Lira.

PS @Thramzorean so your familiar is now with you (descended from #6 Lancet St.)?

ACTIONS

Recall Knowledge (Occultism) +2

Edited March 6 by Vedast (see edit history)

saithor · March 6

Ihrin

Human• Entertainer • Maestro Bard 1
Medium • Chaotic Good • Humanoid

Ihrin took the hand of the brown-haired woman who had approached. It would be rude not to shake it, wouldn't it? And she could definitely relate to feeling nervous. "Ihrin," she replied. "I hope you'll excuse me for leaving my last name out of this. I like my privacy." Which is why I decided to come in the mask and outfit I perform in. Stupid, Ihrin. Stupid. "If it's any help, this is my first time at this as well."

Any further words from Ihrin were cut off by the half-orcs sudden arrival and command to move. Ihrin glared at him from the eyeholes of her mask. "Are you implying none of us are busy either, sir? If you want your revenge, perhaps don't insult those here to help you get it."

Actions:

OOC

Whitehart09 · March 6

Carthen

Carthen kept a wary eye on the halfling as they went around and collected cushions. This one was a lot like him, looking for that right angle, the way to watch, be wary and ready. He kept a curious eye until they stopped beside him, laid down the cushions and sat directly next to him. It was bound to happen of course, someone would have to sit next to him but of course it was the halfling announcing themselves loudly as Caltrix, some kind of locksmith.

He gave his head a nod at them and replied back, "Carthen." It was short but he was honestly still on edge about this whole situation. The others filing in were quite an eclectic group, he could never have imagined being in a room with all these personalities.

He turned his head to Ihrin as they spoke up to him, "Do you find it hard to cry through that mask? Are you able to get a hanky in there to dry the tears?"

OOC and Actions

Carthen Brisbane-------------------------
HP: 20 (20 base)
AC: 17

===== Reactions =====

===== Actions =====

Ongoing Effects and Daily Use Things

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VennDygrem · March 7

Aquila holds her hands up in a placating gesture. She withholds a sigh of frustration. Was she really going to have to be the adult in the room?

"Hold, now, everyone. We only just got here, let's at least find out why before we resort to hostility."

Assuming no one launches into a tirade, the sylph puts her hands down, then crosses them across her torso.

"I'm Aquila. I take it I'm not the only one who found a mysterious Harrow card recently. If I'm not mistaken, I think we've all got someone in common, a person of interest, for one reason or another. I'm sure our host will take it upon themselves to tell us why we, specifically, have been brought together here."

Finishing her introduction and general musing, Aquila takes the opportunity to look around. It reminds her of some of the more cluttered homes of her Varisian neighbors, the older matrons hoarding knick-knacks and burning incense for some esoteric purpose. Aquila never found the scents particularly soothing or welcome, but it beat the odors of Old Korvosa, particularly Bridgefront.

OOC & Actions

N/A

Edited March 7 by VennDygrem (see edit history)

Zen Gypsy · March 7

As the bead curtain rustled, revealing Zellara's presence, the group of six individuals—each unknowingly marked by the threads of fate—gathered in Zellara's Wonders. The atmosphere hung thick with mystery. Zellara, appearing as she did in life—an attractive Varisian woman with long, dark hair—drew a harrow deck from her kapenia, a stunning and intricate family scarf. The kapenia, woven with vibrant purples, yellows, and blues, displayed complex loops and whorls.

As Zellara began shuffling the harrow deck, the atmosphere in the room shifted with subtle intensity. Her hands moved with an almost ethereal grace, manipulating each card with deliberate precision. The cards seemed to float and dance through her fingers, guided by an unseen force. The sound was a soft, rhythmic rustle, the delicate whisper of parchment brushing against itself in a hypnotic cadence.

"Thank you for coming, my Harrow, and for putting up with my unconventional method of contacting you," Zellara said, her gaze carrying a profound weight as she looked at each individual. "I found each of you, not just because of your connection with the man, but with the deck, the Harrow itself." The words lingered in the air, hinting at a deeper connection between the individuals and the mystical forces that guided their destinies. Zellara continued, her voice a blend of desperation and determination, "I have reason to remain hidden, you see—a vicious man would see great harm done to me if he knew I was reaching out for help. This man 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."

She recounted the tale of her stolen harrow deck, the murder of her son Eran, and her pursuit of justice against Gaedren Lamm. The unspoken connection between the six strangers and the shared enemy became apparent, and the urgency of their mission echoed in Zellara's words.

Zellara's voice quivered with emotion as she shared the tragic tale, "You see, a year ago, Gaedren Lamm came to me, in this, my very home, to ask that Madame Zellara tell him of his fate. He took note of the Harrow, an heirloom passed down through a dozen generations, a cherished connection to my roots. However, the cards unveiled truths he couldn't bear. Enraged by the revelations, he lashed out, struck me, scattered the table, and stole the deck. My son Eran learned of the assault and the loss of the heirloom and sought to retrieve it. I warned him not to pursue vengeance, but he was determined. We fought, the door closed, and that was the last I saw of my son."

As Zellara reveals her poignant tale, her voice quivers with a mix of sorrow and regret. "And so, as I sought retribution and justice, my determination led me down a path that cost me not only my son but also distanced me from my own flesh and blood." The weight of the past bears heavily on her, adding a somber note to her words that resonates with the grief she carries. "The Guard's refusal, the bribery, and the whispers of Gaedren's wrongdoings have now brought us together, united by a common thread of grievance against this criminal who has eluded justice for far too long."

As Zellara concludes her tale, her eyes take on an otherworldly glint, and she decides to perform a final, cryptic harrow reading before vanishing into the shadows. With a graceful sweep of her hands, the cards seem to dance in the air before settling into a mysterious pattern.

"The threads of fate weave a tapestry yet unfinished," Zellara begins, her voice taking on an ethereal quality. "The Locksmith, she who holds the keys, unlocks secrets veiled in darkness. Beware the hidden door, for behind it lies both treasure and peril."

Her eyes shift to the Wanderer, "The Wanderer treads where others fear to venture. Among discarded fragments, true worth lies hidden. Embrace the overlooked, for within it, destiny unfolds."

The Owl draws her attention next, "The Owl peers into the shadows, ever watchful. Life's harsh truths demand acceptance. A needle stitches, but also unravels—beware the delicate balance, for in it lies strength and vulnerability."

Turning to the Inquisitor, "The Inquisitor, harbinger of unyielding truth. Immutable and unwavering, the object reveals itself. A dance with deception courts disaster—heed the unchangeable, for it guides the path."

Gazing at the Survivor, "The Survivor rises from the ashes, reborn. Among fallen comrades, resilience emerges. The past thought lost resurfaces—a testament to endurance and renewal."

Finally, her eyes rest on the Courtesan, "The Courtesan navigates the intricate dance of intrigue. The mask conceals and reveals, shaping fate with each step. Handle delicately, for the unmasking alters the course."

As the final moments of Zellara's harrow reading approach, her gaze turns to an empty spot in front of her own chair. A flip of the card, "the Vision, seer of what lies beyond. Amidst memories entwined, echoes of the past whisper. Embrace the spectral threads that bind, for within them, truths unfold."

The room seems to hold its breath as Zellara's hands move with an otherworldly grace, placing the Vision card amidst the others. "In the tapestry of your life, the Vision reveals paths unseen. The haunting specters of love and loss shall guide your steps. Embrace the ethereal dance, for within the shadows, clarity emerges."

Zellara concludes with an enigmatic smile, "The cards have spoken, and your destinies entwine. As you tread the path ahead, the music of the city will guide you. Listen to its whispers, for within them, echoes the tapestry of Korvosa's fate. Now, go forth, my Harrow, and may the cards be ever in your favor."

As the harrow reading concluded, the characters felt a strange and disorienting shift in the air. The surroundings blurred, and the room seemed to echo with a mysterious resonance. In the next instant, they found themselves still seated around the table but in a place that felt both hauntingly familiar and eerily abandoned.

The once-vibrant Zellara's Wonders now stood as a hollow shell. The fragrant haze of flowers and spice had dissipated, leaving only a faint scent lingering in the air. The room, stripped bare, displayed empty walls where once vibrant tapestries told tales of black-skulled beasts, dancing angels, and hooded figures shrouded in mist. The beaded curtain, which once rustled in the wind, was gone, and the glass-topped counter stood empty, devoid of the curios and trinkets that had adorned it. The vibrant colors of the rugs were but a distant memory, and the lantern on the table cast feeble light in a desolate space.

The table before them, once set for a mystical gathering, remained unchanged. The chairs were arranged in a circle, each of them exchanging confused glances with one another, until they noted a woman sitting in the chair once occupied by Madame Zellara. A half-elf of striking presence, possessed short-cut dark hair and penetrating dark eyes that hinted at keen intelligence and otherworldly knowledge. Adorned in medieval garb, she wore trinkets and ornaments, each with occult and religious significance, reflecting her eclectic tastes. As she sat at Zellara's place, wrapped in the kapenia, the heirloom spoke of her Varisian heritage, its intricate whorls and vibrant colors resonating with the mystical aura that now enveloped her. In the emptiness of Zellara's Wonders, a profound silence hung, broken only by the distant sounds of Korvosa awakening to a new day.

Keante · March 7

Lira Esmeranda - Half-Elf Thaumaturge 1 • application • Pathbuilder sheet

Lira's eyes were closed as the vision ended, and she stroked the scarf resting on her shoulders, almost as if it had been a loved one's hand there and not simply an object. She whispered, "Mother," and a tear glistened for a moment on her cheek before she wiped her eyes with the kapenia and opened them to see in their natural state the figures that had joined her here.

"Hello," she began in a voice stronger now than that of her earlier whisper. "My name is Lira. I wonder if you have begun to suspect that it was I who gave you those cards to summon you here today, but it was not. Zellara is my mother, whom I have not seen for many months now. I don't know by what means she communicated with all of us here today, but I assure you I am no spellcaster, capable of magnificent illusions."

Mechanics

Main Hand: (Starknife is put away, not in hand)
Off Hand: Lantern Implement

Action 1: Your action goes here.

Action 2: Your action goes here.

Action 3: Your action goes here.

ACTIONS

Strike (Starknife)

+6 to hit, 1d4+2 piercing or slashing, deadly d6 (on crit add 1 die)

Exploit Vulnerability

Select a creature you can see and attempt an Esoteric Lore check against a standard DC for its level, as you retrieve the right object from your esoterica and use your implement to empower it.

Lantern Initiate Benefit

While you hold your lantern, its burning light leaves secrets no place to hide. You can light or extinguish your lantern as a free action once each turn with nothing but a thought, which has the concentrate trait. The lantern shines bright light out to 20 feet and dim light out 20 feet further; this has the evocation, light, and magical traits (the counteract level against magical darkness is equal to half your level rounded up).

The lantern's magical light attempts to reveal the unseen. You and your allies in the lantern's area of bright light gain a +1 status bonus to visual Perception checks to notice anything that is also within the bright light, and a +1 status bonus to checks to Recall Knowledge against creatures within the bright light, as the light exposes their true natures. During exploration, even if you aren't Searching, the GM rolls a secret check for you to find traps, environmental hazards, haunts, and secrets (such as secret doors). The GM rolls each time a given hazard or secret comes within 20 feet of you and within the lantern's bright light. These effects have the divination, magical, and revelation traits.

Thramzorean · March 7

Ionacu Davian HP: 16/16 Saves: Fort 5, Ref 5, Will 6 AC: 15, Perception: 4, Speed: 25 '

There was a harsh caawww of surprise and the heavy beat of offended flapping wings as the magic of the room dissolved and they were left sitting around the table in the presence of this newcomer, Lira. The raven settled back down on Ionacu's shoulder, a gold-amber eye now sweeping back and forth around the room.

"Yes, well, umm, good evening to you Lira," stated the elegantly dressed young man. "Ah, do we need another round of introductions or were you able to overhear all that just went on?"

The young man turned to look around at the others sat the table, his miss-matched eyes in stark contrast to one another, one gold-amber, the other a deep blue.

"It seems it is not just fate that has drawn us together, but a unified cause. A mutual problem. One Gaedren Lamm," the name was spat out in disgust. "It might just be we have been called together here to do something about it. In truth I could use all the help I can get."

Ionacu glanced speculatively about at the others seated at the table.

Vedast · March 7

Caltrix Nimblesquirl
Twilight Halfling; Acrobat; Rogue (Thief; 1); (TBA) Archetype; Harrow Card: 'The Locksmith'

HP: 15/15 | AC:17: Explorer's | Speed: 25' |Senses: Low-light vision; Keen Eyes | Lang: Common; Halfling; Gnome; Varisian

Perception (E): +7 | Fort (T): +4 | Ref (E): +9| Will (E): +7 |

Caltrix required a few moments to adjust to events.

It made a sort of sense, after all. The ramshackle street; the warehouses; the lack of traffic -- not in keeping with an active occult curio shoppe in the vicinity. Still, the halfling had had little traffic in her life with the ars magica. Of course, magic and its evidences were all about ... pseudodragons and imps flew over the city, after all ... but that was a far cry from having directly experienced a spell or magical effect.

Collecting her wits, though, she introduced herself to Lira, and the rest of the group who might have missed her greeting to Carthen, as Caltrix, ... the ... the Locksmith.

She had observed carefully on whom Zellara's gaze had fallen when each card was named. The Esoteric One, as she'd thought of him, Ionacu and his raven, seemed to be The Inquisitor amongst them. The little rogue suppressed the wariness that arose at the epithet: even 'locksmith' could be viewed ambiguously, after all, she reflected.

She then gave those assembled a précis version of her background touching on:

Lamm's embezzling of funds from The Gamester's Roll, a gambling den run by the Cerulean Society.
That she and Lollifar had discovered this, but were in turn set-up by Lamm to take the blame (and the fall).
That Lollifar* was taken captive (whereabouts and fate unknown) whilst she had been chased up into the Shingles.
Leaves the fate of Conso ambiguous -- well, other than that he had made a gruesome mess on the street after his fall. Her face reflects a certain grim satisfaction when relating this.
That she'd been living by street performing** (acrobatics and card tricks) whilst trying to evade the Cerulean Society until such time as she could make her case for innocence.
And, of course, that she had been keeping her eyes and ears open for word of Lamm or one of his minions.

I can use a blade, though I'm not much of a warrior, she continued. I can find my way around quietly and usually quick to spot things out of place; am good with ... er ... devices ... and know my way around a circus and gambling games.

She concluded after this brief monologue.

Hopefully, she thought, I've made it clear what I can offer to a group effort to rid the world of Gaedren Lamm - and why - without giving away too much information.

The little halfling-with-more-than-a-dash-of-gnome was a happy-go-lucky sort of personality. Her nature was often at odds with what was seemingly becoming her more clandestine professional calling. Fate would reveal, she supposed. In any case, the Game was to be enjoyed.

Beware the hidden door, for behind it lies both treasure and peril.

OOC

* I updated App to define Lollifar as a human woman, in her early 30's. She had been a croupier at the Gamester's Roll who worked along with Caltrix. The two had shared a flat.

** Not Performance, as in the PF2e Skill. Entertainment might be a better non-Game term.

ACTIONS

Edited March 8 by Vedast (see edit history)

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Edge of Anarchy: Harrowing Fortunes

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