Mafiascum.net

The interior of this small, humble home consists of a single cozy
chamber filled with a fragrant haze of flowers and strong spice.
The aroma comes from several sticks of incense smoldering in
wall-mounted burners that look like butterfly-winged elves.
The smoke gives the room a dreamy feel. The walls are draped
with brocaded tapestries, one showing a black-skulled beast
juggling human hearts, and another showing a pair of angels
dancing atop a snow-blasted mountain. A third tapestry on
the far wall depicts a tall, hooded figure shrouded in mist,
holding a flaming sword in a skeletal hand. Several brightly
colored rugs cover the floor, but the room’s only furnishings
are a wooden table covered by a bright red throw cloth and
several elegant, tall-backed chairs. A basket covered by blue
cloth sits under the table.

On the table you see a note weighed down by a rock. It reads:

Thank you for coming.
I had to step out for
a bit, but shall return
shortly. Please, have a
seat while you wait.
The basket under the
table contains bread and
drink for you.

Lucien grabs a chair to sit, pondering this whole situation. With a snap of his fingers, and a few words muttered under his breath you see a shimmering hand appear, and reach out to grab the blue cloth and remove it

Before you, you see a man in colourful clothes. A light, bright blue shirt covered with a deep red cloak with splashes of yellow on it. Not the tallest, but his olive skin and shocking blonde hair would definitely mark him as Varisian, to anyone that had any knowledge of the different humans that make up this city. You notice tattoos on his left and right arms, one of some sort of swirling electrical bolt and the other in the pattern of a snowflake

"I assume you all got a letter too? What do you make of it? I suppose we weren't brought here to be killed, that seems much too elaborate. Might as well grab some food while we wait for answers. The name is Lucien, by the way. You might have seen me in one of the taverns around this city, if you're the tavern going sort." He puffs out his chest, as if prideful of that, before anyone can respond.

"Anyone else hungry?", he says tearing off a chunk of bread that his spectral floating hand delivers to him. "You don't have to all look so tense, this'll sort itself out, just relax".

Freda walked cautiously up to Lancet Street, once again retrieving the letter from her backpack to verify the address. The elderly halfling tugged at the neckline of the uniform dress she donned under her leather armor. She smoothed a flyway hair back toward her bun as she quietly approached the small house. Nothing particularly seemed amiss - so far.

Unaccustomed to such heavy fragrance and smoke, she began to cough just moments after the door was shut behind her. Wafting the air in front of her, Freda scanned the room for other exits and hidden dangers.
The halfling noted the diversity of those present and pondered that Gaedren Lamm's influence may be more pervasive than she had realized. Upon reading the new note, Freda frowned suspiciously. She remained standing near the doorway (and opposite the incense) and pondered whether to instead wait outside when suddenly she caught a glimpse of a native Varisian's magic. Freda turned to the flamboyant, confident, and relaxed young man and held up her letter when he mentioned his.

"It is likely too elaborate to be a veiled threat or attempt to kill those against Gaedren Lamm," Freda started. "However, I would warn you - cough cough - against eating anything until the host shows himself. He is a stranger to you, is he not?"

"Oh, this is as new to me as it is to you. But how are we to know if our host means to kill us, if we don't try the food?", Lucien laughs, biting down a chunk of the bread.

"Be reasonable, if this was to be some sort of attempt on our lives, don't you think bringing us together like this...would be a little stupid?". Lucien continues to chew the bread and his spectral hand grabs one of the bottles pouring it into a goblet, effortlessly.

"The decor is certainly...interesting", Lucien says, through a mouth full of bread. "Yum, yes, a little bit depressing for my tastes but it certainly sparks the imagination doesn't it? Very end of days".

Does lucien recognise any of the tapestries/do I need to make a check to see if they're a scene from a book he might have read or some such?

After you've all had enough time to greet each other, the door opens one last time and a middle aged women walks through. She's playing with a deck of cards as she walks, and the skill with which she handles them imparts that its something she does often.



She motions for those of you who are still not sitting to do so, and then begins to speak in a soft but clear voice.

“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 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. 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 Lamm’s pickpockets stole it,
my son Eran tracked them down and returned my deck to me.
But Gaedren had him followed, and soon after he left my home,
Gaedren’s thugs murdered him.
“I sought help from the Korvosan Guard, but they turned
me away. And so I asked around. I paid bribes. I consulted
my harrow deck for advice. And recently, I was rewarded—I
found out where Gaedren dwells. “But I need your help. I
cannot hope to face this man on my own, and the Guard
moves so slowly that if they were willing to help, Gaedren
would certainly know of their coming well in advance. And
even if they arrested him, what guarantee would I have he
would be punished? This criminal has evaded the law for decades.
But you know of these frustrations as well, for word on the
street has it that Gaedren has wronged each of you, too. So
there we are. It is time for him to pay.”
"Before I tell you where he is I must consult my deck one last
time. Please, each of you, draw a card. We shall see what
it says about your chance of victory when you face Gaedren
and his goons.

[Each of you please choose a number between 1 and 54]

Lucien stands up, and gives a quick bow, towards Zellara. "So, you are our mysterious host. The bread was lovely". He continues on, in a much more solemn tone - "I am sorry to hear of your loss, but, I am glad that we share something in common - a thirst for revenge. Gaedran has destroyed my whole career, and dreams, and convinced people I was murdering scum. I was planning on finding him some day, but I am glad that fate has brought us together."

Lucien's eyes light up, as he eyes the deck. "Draw a card you say? Why gladly, I love a good game of chance. Hopefully this turns out better than that one two nights ago, I could hardly afford to lose that 2 gold." He reaches out and draws a card from Zellara's deck with a flourish, before returning to his seat.

"I hope this is a good omen".

card 29 please

Emerging from the shadows in corner of the house, Belven silently nods at Zellara and sits at the table at the prompting of his host. Listening to her tale, Belven gives a slight smirk at the similarity to his own story.



That his host has information on Gaedren's location is a welcome difference. However, Belven, not being one for games in a time like this scowls at Zellara and her request to partake in a card game.

"Fine." he says stoically. "If that's what we must do."

I'll take card 33

Kraeg grunts from the hall, waking up from his nap. Kraeg does not like interruptions. Interruptions make him want to smash things. He lumbers into the room with the food, the stuff that smells nasty and cooked. No raw rats. He wishes there was a rat to eat. Kreag likes rats. And other things. But there is good drink, something tasty for himself. He takes a bottle of wine, snaps the bottle neck, downs it, and blearily grabs a card. Tasty.

I'll take card 2.


Con Roll:

Well, I'm drunk as a skunk.

Dietrich looks up from his small set of food and drink from the basket as the woman walks up.

Dietrich pulls card 48

Freda nodded along as Zellara began to speak, finding a seat shortly after the woman spoke of the vicious man that is Graedan Lamm. "The Guard can be incompetent," Freda responded finally. "That being said, I know from experience that so-called ordinary citizens can quite successfully enforce their own justice. It is past time for that man to meet his comeuppance."

The halfling took the top card. "I suspect you may be in considerable danger, given that you have uncovered so much information. How much do you trust your source of his whereabouts?"

Card 3, please

Kreag puts a drunken hand on Dietrich’s shoulder. “Gods fickle.”

.

#6

In post 7, Faraday wrote:card 29 please

The Rakshasha, A card that represents evil and intelligence, as well as domination and slavery.

In post 8, Belven Carter wrote:I'll take card 33

The Peacock, A card that represents Beauty that's been frozen.

In post 9, James Brafin wrote:I'll take card 2.

The Midwife, an enabler, a conduit of the new

In post 11, brassherald wrote:Dietrich pulls card 48

The Wanderer, and appreciation for trinkets and things others overlook

In post 12, Freda Commonmore wrote:Card 3, please

The Cyclone, an unstoppable chaotic force. An inauspicious card for one so cautious and frail to have drawn. I'd be careful in your near future.

In post 14, Nero Cain wrote:#6

The Marriage, a Uniun of people.


After revealing to each of you the cards you chose, she draws 3 additional cards and begins to skillfully shuffle all 9 together, dealing them face out on the table in a 3x3 grid. As she does so she looks to Freda and says "I would trust my sources with my life, the greater concern is for how long he will stay still"

Now shall we see what the cards say.

The Peacock
The Midwife
The Publican

The things we valued, now only in our memory, brought about our fellowship.

The Paladin
The Rakshasha
The Brass Dwarf

If you resolutely stand against Gaedren as you are, he will be invulnerable to the threat you pose.

The Marriage
The Cyclone
The Wanderer

But if you learn to work together, you will be an unstoppable force.


The message couldn't be more clear. You're not yet ready to hear where he is. You must first truly come together as a group before facing him.
I know the adventurer's guild often has a few odd jobs for prospective groups. Or perhaps you know of some other way to learn to work as a group. Which ever you choose, learn quickly. I don't expect my information to be good for more than a few days.

Lucien frowns. "Well, the intelligence bit was right, I suppose. Still, a Rakshasha is not a good omen."

Hey turns to Zellara, eyeing her up and down.
"So you bring us here, with promise of revenge and now your cards say we are not ready? I can't pretend to like it, however given your refusal to disclose your information, until we meet your standards I do not suppose there is much choice."

Lucien wrings his hands, as if not wanting to continue, but eventually speaks again, a little slower. "And, admittedly there is some sense to what you say. We must work as a unit to take down Gaedren. He is dangerous, as all of us here are aware.", he says pointing at each member of this group, in turn.

"My thanks for the bread and drinkl, and I hope to see you again shortly Zellara. Next time, perhaps, you'll grace us with the information we so desperately need.", Lucien says, taking no care to hide the annoyance from his voice.

"To the Adventurer's Guild then?", Lucien asks, grabbing his cloak and striding for the door.

Kreag makes a face as he looks at the cards. He has no idea what they have to do with killing Gardren, but he does understand what this lady is saying. “KREAG READY!” He bellows as he raised his bottle with frustration and throws it into the floor. He glowers and snarls, staring down their host.

Intimidation Check

"What a waste of time!" Belven exclaims as he stands up with such force that his chair is knocked over.

"This is why I hate card games! I'm half-inclined to snarl like the big guy over there, but I'm starting to believe you don't have any information at all; and, that this was simply a waste of our time for your psychotic enjoyment. Or, perhaps you're a recruiter for the local Adventurer's Guild? The guy who seems to implicitly trust your every word in the racket as well?"

Turning toward the snarling Orc, Belven states "Calm down, big guy. Have a bottle of grog." as he pulls out a bit of fleece from his pouch and recites a few words.

Casting Minor Illusion to create the image of a bottle of grog floating in front of Kreag's face. DC = 14

Having taken care of his frustrations with the hurdles presented, Belven let's out a loud sigh. "Guess it won't do any good to complain."

Belven turns on his heels and follows the one he has internally dubbed as "The Yes-man" out the door.

"Adventuring we-a-go."

Pathvos emits a low growl of frustration and then slams his fist on the table. He locks eyes with the woman and then scowls at her before turning towards the door and pushing his way outside.

Once there he yells "How dare that woman invite us here and not tell us where Gaedren is."

No one is more frustrated than me that you aren't yet ready. If being told no is all it takes to make you get violent, it's not much of a surprise. Spend a day or 2 learning to work together, and then focus that anger where it belongs.

OoC: how do I respond to this illusion? I assume I make a checkk of some sort but what exactly do I do?

OoC: I'd rather not set the precedent of PCs using abilities on each other. With that said, Minor illusion doesn't require a save. If interacted with at all you immediately know it's fake. Otherwise you could spend an action investigating it against said 14 to learn that it's fake.

OoC: K thanks.
IC: Kreag seats at the bottle in front of him, surprised by its sudden appearance but distracted long enough to regain his temper. Kreag cannot stay angry for very long (except at Gardren.) Growling under his breath, he staggers out and looks at the people around him. “Must get stronger. Where job place?”

Freda frowned in response to her personal reading. "Frail?" She muttered, barely audibly. She then sat quietly, taking in the variety of reactions of those around her. After Lucien and Belven had exited, Freda exclaimed, "What a ridiculous theory. Going to such efforts to manipulate us to do a guild quest would not only be unnecessary, but potentially quite poor for business in the long run." The woman sighed, and turned to Zellara. "It does not take a card trick to figure out that this group is not ready for such a threat as that man. That being said, I will bare these omens in mind."

Shaking her head, she turned to the demonstrative orc. "The Varisian seems to know. Come, let us hurry." She held the door open behind her as she exited.