Part 2 – Seven Days to the Grave

Chapter 15 – Message From the Dead

It’s late in the evening after my lunch with Bilna. Thoughts of the fabled Blackjack and his daring rescue of Trinia Sabor still linger in my thoughts. The city guard scours the city in search of the so-called king slayer, and rumors of what lay ahead swirl through the populace. I try to ignore it as I make my way through the Gold Market assessing options for dinner and observing the people wandering through. A young girl with wave brown hair and a bright smile bumps into me. She apologizes but seems to bear no ill will, so I send her on her way with a nothing more than a word of caution.

As she disappears into the crowd, I turn toward a nearby commotion and see my friend Barub rushing by in obvious distress. I run to catch up.

“Barub! What’s wrong?”

She seems relieved to see me, but is talking fast and in near hysterics.

“The cards started glowing!” She says. I see now she has Vellara’s Harrow Deck in her hand. With everything that’s happened since that day I met everyone, I’d forgotten about it. “We must do something.”

I’m about to offer her words of comfort when I spot the ghostly visage of Zellara herself hovering nearby behind a pineapple stall. Our gazes lock and she points in the direction where we first met her, now the home of Zeph.

“Go to Zeph’s,” I tell Barub. “I’ll gather the others and meet you there.”

Barub rushes off, seemingly content with having something concrete to do, while I run to find Saban and Emrisil. Emrisil proves to be at home enjoying the comforts of a romance novel while Saban was training at a nearby temple.

Together we arrive to find Zeph mildly annoyed but putting on a pleasant smile and playing the part of host to Barub. He fills us in that Barub saw Zellara’s ghost at home before the cards starting glowing. He doesn’t seem convinced until I tell him I also saw her ghost in the market. As if further evidence was needed, the center table begins to shake, knocking items Zeph had placed upon it to the floor, and Zellara herself appears as a shimmering spirit above it. The Harrow Deck flies from Barub’s hand and floats in a circle around Zellara’s head.

“Please, sit,” Zellara says. “The Suit of Hammers will guide your fate in the days to come. We have among us hulking warriors,” she nods to Emrisil and Barub, “…” she nods to Zeph and Saban, ” and an engine of destruction,” she nods to me. “This is a sign that brute force will be needed over subtlety. Now, if you please, each of you select a card from those shown before you.”

A selection of cards separates from the rest and floats down before us. Each of us reach out with timid hands to select one. I receive the Tangled Briar, but Zellara makes no note of it other than to frown. My stomach knots with worry as to what this might mean. Then the selected cards pull from our grasp and return to the deck.

Zellara then invites us each to shuffle the deck once, starting with me and working around the room clockwise. Zeph seems to struggle with the concept. Perhaps he isn’t one for card games.

After the reading, Zellara disappears and Emrisil gathers up the deck, for Barub seems reluctant to do so.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door that startles all of us. I look to Zeph who reluctantly heads to the door and puts an ear to it.

“Just open the door,” Emrisil says.

Zeph scowls a bit, but complies. On the other side is a young courier.

“Are you Zeph?” He asks.

Zeph nods, and the courier hands him a note then waits. Zeph glances at us then back at the courier before handing him a few silver pieces. The courier’s eyes widen in surprise for a moment before pocketing the coins and attempting to peer past Zeph into the room.

“If there’s anything else, I’m–” Zeph cuts him off by closing the door.

The card turns out to be addressed to us all, and was written by Vencarlo. My heart flutters with excitement at the thought of seeing him again, though he’s clearly far too old for the likes of me. I squash the feelings and listen as Saban takes the note and reads it aloud.

Saban seems excited at the prospect of training under the renowned tutor, but after a brief discussion we decide it’s too late now to call on him. We instead agree to meet at the Three Rings Tavern in the morning before heading over.

The following morning, I’m awaking by the shouts of a town crier proclaiming with great enthusiasm the news of the day.

“Queen decrees five thousand gold piece reward for the capture of Trinia Sabor!” The words filter loud and clear through my bedroom window.

“Longacre Building to be remodeled for the Gray Maidens, the selected warriors who form the Queen’s Guard!”

I rise, dress, and make my way quickly to the tavern, arriving first since I’m closest. I select our usual table and await the others’ arrival. As I wait, new rumors abound from the clientele passing in and out of the establishment.

“They say she’s only recruiting broody, attractive women for the Gray Maidens,” one person says.

“Large shipments of weapon’s grade metal is being moved into Longacre,” says another. Someone notes the oddity of this claim given there are no known blacksmiths in Longacre.

The others arrive, including Majenko who waits for us outside, and we enjoy a quick breakfast before heading out to Orisini Academy. When we arrive, we find a sign posted on the door stating ‘Classes Cancelled Today’. Saban seems disappointed, but a moment later, the door opens and Vencarlo greets us.

“Welcome, and thank you for coming so quickly,” he says. “Please, come in.”

He leads us down a hallway to a study. Waiting for us inside is none other than Trinia Sabor. She wears a wide-brimmed rider’s hat and a wig of long red curls, but there’s no mistaking her. She shuffles her feet and looks a bit sheepish.

“Sorry about the trouble I gave you in the Shingles,” she says.

“There’s a large reward for you,” Saban says somewhat bitterly, though no one pays the comment much mind.

Vencarlo gestures for us to be seated. “You were all at the queen’s debacle, so I don’t doubt you recognize this charming young woman. I had only just reached my home the night of Her Majesty’s morbid gala when that troublemaker Blackjack and this startled woman arrived at my doorstep. The so-called people’s hero,” he rolls his eyes at the moniker, “and I have had some dealings in the past, but it’s been some years since I’ve seen the scoundrel. He was quick with his words and soon swooped off, doubtlessly to right some other festering wrong, but not before entrusting Miss Sabor to my protection and care. Although I don’t know Blackjack’s motives or politics, I trust his judgment and have seen much right done by his blade. He says Miss Sabor is innocent of the crime she’s been accused of, and I’m more disposed to trust a hero of the city than the tantrums of some bloody-minded child playing at queen.”

His annoyance with Blackjack’s interference doesn’t seem wholly genuine, but when he speaks of trusting Blackjack, there can be no doubt of his honesty there. I suspect he knows more about Blackjack than he’s letting on and make a mental note to give that more thought later.

“The matter is simple: Korvosa is no longer safe for Miss Sabor. I’ve arranged for friends in Harse—a couple of well-respected ranchers—to take in our beautiful renegade until this whole ‘assassination’ foolishness blows over. It’s the first leg of the journey where we find our problem, though. Ever since the queen’s put a price on her head, mercenaries, soldiers, and the queen’s new Gray Maidens have been searching for the young lady tirelessly. They’ve stopped by here three times so far, and each time I’ve only just barely been able to turn them away without inviting a search. My most reliable contacts have gone to ground in light of the recent uprisings, and Her Highness’s bounty for Trinia’s capture makes the use of new agents inadvisable. Thus, after some time to let her trail cool, I turned to you resourceful lot. Care to escort a lady home?”

Chapter 16 – The Road to Trotts

“So was the offer to train pursely a ruse?” Saban asks, though his downtrodden expression suggests he already knows the answer.

“Sorry,” Vencarlo says. “I am too busy just now. I can offer five hundred gold pieces and outfit you with horses for the journey.”

“Can we get a cart or carriage to hide her in?” I ask. Vencarlo nods.

“I could dress up as a horse,” Trinia offers, though no one takes the suggestion seriously.

“I recommend you slow walk your way to High Bridge so as not to arouse suspicion.” Vencarlo produces a map and shows us the way to a small farming village named Trotts. “A friend of mine will take her from there.”

Vencarlo excuses himself and leaves us to plan. We consider several ideas regarding how to disguise Trinia and what our cover story is before at last settling on a plan and heading out. Zeph and I ride in the cart, me making every effort to appear the pampered leader and Zeph acting as cook. Barub walks in front, leading the horses while Emrisil rides on the right acting as guard. Trinia, now disguised as a male elf named Delanor, rides on the left and Saban takes up the rear.

We stop along the way at Zellara’s, now Zeph’s, to pick up whatever belongings we can find that might belong to a noble and stuff it into the cart.

“Have you noticed the new bands on the guards?” Emrisil asks, referencing the crimson bands the Korvosan guard now wears. A new order come down from the queen, I suspect.

We continue on, the drake Majenko following at a distance. Zeph tries to have him assist us by keeping an eye out for anyone dangerous, but communicating this request proves challenging.

Travel goes smoothly enough until we turn the last corner and High Bridge looms before us. It’s here where a woman adorned in full plate armor, her helm sporting a bright red plume, stands in the road before us and calls for us to halt. For a moment, I consider calling for us to drive past her, but manage to suppress the urge.

The woman looks at Emrisil, though what she’s thinking behind her faceplate I cannot guess.

“You’ve worked with the guard, but I see no regulation red,” she says, a note of accusation in her voice. I glance at Emrisil and realize she’s wearing Verik’s armor. Sweat beads on my forehead as I wait for Emrisil to respond.

“We’ve helped them, yes,” she says, apparently going with telling at least a version of the truth, “but we aren’t working with them now.”

“Do you find it appropriate to be wearing a guard’s armor?” The woman’s hand twitches on the hilt of her sword, as though she’s just looking for an excuse to use it.

Emrisil’s mouth opens and closes, apparently at a loss.

“We’re on our way to Veldraine, ma’am,” I say, rising to my feet. “Transporting goods for a relocating ambassador named Amprei.”

Her gaze falls to me. “You will each declare yourselves, and will step aside for an inspection.”

Zeph pops up beside me, a cheery look on his face. “I’m Zeph the cook.” He holds out a plate of foul-smelling food. “Would you care for some shark meat?”

I try not to gag, and even the woman herself takes a step back, apparently repulsed. “I’ve seen enough,” she says, then turns to Emrisil. “You shouldn’t wear that armor. The city is in our care now.” She turns and leaves hurriedly.

We continue on, crossing the bridge without further interference. Majenko decides to remain behind and promises to keep an eye on things while we’re gone. Once clear of the city and any guards who might overhear, I call out to Emrisil to ask what the woman meant by “our care”. Emrisil replies she thinks that was a Gray Maiden.

We travel along with some other merchant caravans until we reach a crossroads with a large set of stairs leading up to nowhere.

“That’s the corkscrew,” Trinia says, pointing at the stairs.

Following Vencarlo’s map, we turn north onto Dwarfwalk Road which proves to be much quieter with no other carts or caravans in sight.

Trinia appears agog at being out of the city, apparently having never have left Korvosa before, and is eager to strike up a conversation. Zeph asks her about illusion magic, but she’s more interested in discussing the landscape. I step in and tell her about my birthplace, the city of Halgrim, and all the places along the coast my father showed me. It helps keeps her distracted, allowing the others to remain on lookout.

The landscape turns to forest, and a single traveler heading south approaches.

“Is this the way to Korvosa?” the man asks. He’s elderly, leans heavily on his cane and is missing an eye. Emrisil replies in the affirmative. “Thank you, kind lady.” He turns his gaze upward. “You can see most clearly on a starless night.”

Emrisil looks at the man curiously, then points north. “What is in that direction? Is there an inn we can spend the night?”

“There be an inn, not too far,” says the man. He cocks in head in the direction of Trinia, who is still disguised. “Who be this young lady?”

Emrisil stiffens. “What business is it of yours?”

The man looks at Emrisil and smirks. “Perhaps it would be best if this encounter was forgotten.” He holds out a hand. I toss a gold piece to him, which he catches quite deftly.

Emrisil turns to glare at me. “He didn’t even tell us anything.”

“Stop talking,” Saban tells her.

The man smiles and nods his appreciation of my donation. “Don’t get turned around at the crossroads.” I ask Barub to get us going again. The man steps aside to let us pass. “And beware the bridge!”

As we leave the man behind us, the sun sinks low on the horizon. Shapes appear on the road ahead, too distant to make out clearly. Zeph offers to scout ahead and soon returns with a report of grazing aurochs blocking the path ahead.

“Trinia, can you mimic the sounds of a predator?” I ask, but she shakes her head no. We take a few minutes to discuss what to do. In the end, I cast a flare spell, which sends the aurochs in a short stampede to the side of the road. With the way cleared, we continue on before they decide to return.

The road turns east and we approach a bridge crossing a wide river. Annoyingly, a collection of goblins stand on the bridge shouting as we approach.

“Our bridge! You can’t go over! Mighty bridge conquerors!”

We stop the horses and Emrisil approaches. “We don’t want any trouble.” I almost admire her persistence.

Saban jumps down and joins Emrisil at the edge of the bridge. “I am small folk, I can cross.” He draws his kama and grins wickedly. “It would be easier slicked with your blood.” Emrisil looks horrified, and I can’t help but laugh at the dichotomy.

One of the goblins steps tentatively forward. “If you offer your blood, you may cross.”

“Goblin blood is better,” Saban replies.

“You kill one of us, we kill one of you,” says the goblin.

Barub runs up to join Emrisil and Saban, and shouts. “You leave now!” The goblins, startled, flee to the far end of the bridge.

I drive the horses forward, hoping to take advantage of the moment, but the goblins find their courage once and more and step up to stop us. I weave a spell, and knock the goblin down with a sudden rush of magical water. The other goblins charge forward. In their haste, one slips and tumbles over into the rushing waters below while another is hit from behind by friendly fire and falls dead. The other goblins barely notice as they charge over him.

Zeph rushses to join the others while Trinia and I stay back. Metal clashes as swords and clubs and other weapons come together. Trinia begins to sing, her words filling us with strength and courage. I stand up and attempt to declare the bridge mine, but at that moment a large, grotesque bulbuos creature reeking of rotten fish emerges from under the bridge, drowning out my words.

The goblins chant, “Globster! Globster!” even as their fallen companion is loudly chewed by the revolting creature. Barub screams and charges the globster while Emrisil and Saban remain engaged with the goblin forces on the bridge. Zeph throws an acid flask at the globster, but seems unwilling to get too close. Unfortunately, it appears to do no damage to the creature.

I blast the globster with some icy magic to little effect, but as the goblin forces thin, Emrisil disengages and moves to assist Barub. The globster regurgitates and a second creature forms next to it. Barub slices through the first and it shudders and shakes. Zeph pulls out a different bomb, an alkali I think, and tosses it at the first. The resulting explosion destroys the creature and splashes goop over Barub. She seems not to notice.

The second globster grabs Emrisil, and appears to be about to eat her. On the bridge, Saban is now surrounded by several goblins. For a fleeting moment, things appear bleak, but a flurry of strikes from Saban knocks down half his foes while Barub and Zeph combine once again to destroy the remainnig globster. I blast a goblin away with some icy magic, and Saban handles the last two. Emrisil is in bad shape, so we cross the bridge and search for a place to rest a bit.

Trinia resumes her quest to learn about lands outside Korvosa, asking me about the Lands of the Linnorm Kings and Irrisen and Barub about the Storval Lands.

“Have you heard of anywhere other than Korvosa?” Emrisil asks her. She shakes her head no and turns to Zeph.

“I’ve heard of a flying monster near Sandpoint,” he says, eliciting a squeal of glee from Trinia. She turns to Saban with a querying look.

“My brother and I worked on merchant ships until he was killed by Gaedren.”

This brings the mood down a bit, and we continue our rest in silence. Once Emrisil feels up for it, we continue on to Trotts where we are warmly greeted by a man named Jesan. He pays for a night’s stay at the inn for us, and we say our goodbyes and well wishes to Trinia.

The night at the inn proves uneventful, though I do find a charming book entitled Redwing Eidolon. Emrisil reads one titled Varisia is a Land Fallen in Love. The following morning Emrisil removes the guard’s emblem from her armor, and we return to Korvosa.

Chapter 17 – A Mysterious Plague

Upon our return, people speak in hushed and worried tones about an incident overnight. We soon learn a ship entered the bay. Guards shouted for identification, but received no response and saw no movement aboard. They fired a trebuchet and sank the ship. Majenko joins us, and we ask him what he saw.

“I saw lots of people who looked just like that woman who stopped you,” he says. We ask him about the ship. “Explosions and chaos in the bay, but shots were only fired one way.”

Before we can ask for more, a messenger arrives with a request for Emrisil from Grau to come find him at the Three Rings Tavern as soon as possible. We return supplies to Zeph’s, then bring the horses and cart back to Vencarlo before heading off to see Grau. He seems to be better off than the last time we saw him, but is in obvious distress.

“Thank Abadar,” he says upon our arrival. “My niece is sick, a red pox of some kind.”

He leads us to his sister-in-law’s house in Trail’s End, a section of Korvosa on the mainland side of the river and apparently not far from where the ship was sunk. It’s a poor district, and by the looks of the locals, probably dangerous, especially at night.

A variety of greetings are thrown our way, some nice, and some less so.

Tayce Soldado, Grau’s sister-in-law, greets us upon arrival. She appears disheveled and exhausted. The sound of coughing from above leaves no doubt as to the reasons for her current state.

“How can we help?” Emrisil asks after introductions are made. Before anyone can answer, a man in the white and gold robes of a priest of Abadar emerges from a back room. Grau frowns at his approach and glares reprovingly at Tayce.

“Sorry,” says the priest. “I didn’t realize there were more guests.”

Grau ignores him, turning to Emrisil instead. “I’m heading upstairs. Join me when you can.”

The priest introduces himself as Ishani Dhatri. “Are you here because of Brienna? Is there a healer among you?”

Two boys playing in the living room run up to Barub. “Are you Shoanti?” She nods and tells them she’s from the Wolf Clan. They pull her away, and she seems happy to oblige.

“Perhaps it would be best to show you,” Ishani says. Emrisil, myself and Zeph follow him upstairs while Saban, appearing bored, remains down.

The creaky steps open up into a bedroom loft above the main room of the Soldado home. A young girl with auburn hair and a slight frame lies in bed, her face covered in splotches of an angry red rash. A violent fit of hacking coughs jerk her entire frame, lifting her well off her pillows. The spasm passes after a moment, dropping her back to the bed, but seemingly having done little to ease her breathing. A jolt of sympathy races through me as the girl’s mother joins us and takes her hand.

“We don’t know what to do,” Tayce says, looking to us with pleading eyes.

“My calls to Abadar have not been heeded,” Ishani says. I can see the hurt in his eyes.

Thinking back to my recent brush with illness, I consider whether or not the girl has the same thing, but it’s apparent she does not. Whatever ails her, it’s much worse than filth fever. Just as curious, no one else seems to have contracted it.

Emrisil steps and places her hands upon the child’s forehead, murmuring quiet prayers to her goddess. Her coughing subsides slightly, but her effort otherwise has little effect.

“There is a tinxture I can try if you are willing to pay,” Ishani says.

“We are,” Emrisil says. “What is this tinxture?”

“It requires echinacea leaves, but I’m afraid I don’t have any at the moment.”

“Echninacea only grows at Giant’s Reach,” Tayce says. “The stalking place of a manticore.”

I’ve never heard of Giant’s Reach, but Grau describes it as a place where stone hands reach up out of the ground. He provides direction and cautions us regarding the manticore. “It’s small, but still dangerous.”

“I will continue to research the affliction,” Ishani says. “If you can get the echinacea to me by tomorrow, we may have a chance to cure her.

We gather Barub and Saban from downstairs and set out, arriving at Giant’s Reach near dusk. It proves to be a large clearing in a thin forest where the large stone hands Grau described reach out as though grasping at the air. A bridge to the east crosses a narrow river. Zeph points out the echinacea plants on the far side of the clearing near the stone hands, but a roar from the other side of the bridge gives us pause.

We wait and watch, and soon a creature with the face of a human surrounded by a lion’s mane, the wings of a dragon, and a long tail brimming with vicious spikes flies across the river and fires barbs into our midst. I was just out of the line of fire, so I try to blast the creature with icy magic, but miss as it soars away.

Saban rushes ahead for the plants, but before he can reach them a trio of firepelt cougars, perhaps drawn by the roar of the manticore, emerge from the foliage, growling and snarling. Emrisil calls to her goddess for aid, and her magic fills us with divine energy. Barub, in no need of emboldening, rushes forward to help Saban. Zeph pulls a tanglefoot bag from her pack and tosses it at the manticore as it flies toward us once again, but his toss sails wide and lands in the underbrush.

I summon forth a magical shield of water to slow the barbs aimed in my direction, lessening the damage, then rush forward to hide beneath one of the stone hands. Saban apparently gets too close to some kind of mushroom, which lets out a loud, annoying shriek that drowns out all other noise.

The manticore makes another pass, firing barbs at Emrisil, Saban and Barub. I fire a crossbow, but miss. Emrisil and Zeph dive under a pair of stone hands while Saban and Barub finish off the cougars. The manticore lands in the clearing. Zeph tosses a tanglefoot bag at it, but the manticore dodges and attacks back, raking claws at him.

More cougars arrive, keeping Barub and Saban occupied. I step out and blast the manticore with a spray of icy magic, freezing part of one wing. The manticore roards in defiance. Chaos ensues as Zeph scrambles to escape the manticore’s raking claws, Saban battles cougars and Barub angrily slashes her sword at the shrieking mushroom.

Emrisil emerges from her hiding spot and attacks the manticore. I race to another hand, trying to stay out of the creature’s reach. The manticore lifts up and flies away, though not in retreat. It appears to be circling for another strafing run. A cougar pounces at Emrisil, and a second charges and rakes at Zeph. The manticore’s volley litters the ground with barbs and takes out one of the cougars.

Barub finishes off the mushroom, but is immediately beset by another cougar before she can take cover. Saban slips away to begin harvesting the echinacea. Emrisil and Zeph take turns hiding under stone hands or emerging to engage a cougar or the manticore. I fire my crossbow as the manticore takes another pass, this time hitting it in the flank. The manticore hovers above the battlefield and lashes out with it’s spikes, hitting both Barub and myself. Barub tosses a cougar away and rushes to hide under a stone hand.

Emrisil attacks the manticore from below, surprising the creature. With it’s back turned, I step out and blast it with another spread of icy magic, the Barub steps up and chops at the creature with her sword. The creature roars in pain then drops to the ground, unmoving.

In the silence that follows, Saban comes forward, his arms filled with echinacea leaves, and we all stand around breathing heavy and waiting to see if anything else will happen. A splash in the river startles us, but upon inspection, proves only to be a salmon.

We decide to rest a bit. Emrisil heals Barub’s wounds then goes to the river to catch a fish. We then make our way back to Trail’s End. The locals sneer and jeer at us as we pass, but we make it the Soldado residence otherwise unmolested.

Tayce is overjoyed by our arrival, and Ishani pleased with our harvest. Tayce sets us up in a local tavern for the night while Ishani takes our haul back to his church so he can prepare the tinxture. The following morning, we reconvene at the Soldado’s where each of us offers Ishani thirty gold pieces as the fee for applying the tinxture.

Ishani casts his spell, and with the aid of the tinxture, the rashes clear and her breathing softens. Tayce is overjoyed and asks that we stay for a true Varisian dinner. Ishani states he will return to the church as he still as work to do, but requests we come find him later.

We spend the day relaxing in the company of the Soldado family while the feast is prepared, though Grau remains at work. When Brienna is feeling better, she comes downstairs to join us. We ask her how it was she had taken ill.

“It was amazing,” she says. “I was in the Gold Market and found these coins just lying there in an alley.”

“What coins?” Emrisil asks.

“Silver coins,” she says. “They’re used in the bazaar all the time. I couldn’t believe my luck.”

Her brothers retrieve the pouch she’d found and hand it to Emrisil. It’s empty now, as the coins were used to purchase food. Barub becomes agitated with worry that her mom, who frequents the market, could also come into contact with the illness.

I turn to the boys. “What do you know about the Gray Maidens?”

They shrug. “We’ve seen them around. There was a Shoanti woman, Payah, who used to be a loner, but she’s a Gray Maiden now, promised her wealth and prestige. They look super cool. I hope they can protect us.”

After dinner, we return to the city proper and our respective homes. That night, I notice red goo running from under my fingernails, but it clears up and afterward I feel fine. Hoping it’s nothing, I crawl into bed for some much needed sleep.

Chapter 18 – The Blood Veil

The next morning, I begin making my way to the Grand Vault of Abadar. The streets are filled with more Korvosan guard and people coughing and moving more sluggishly than usual. Towering over the surrounding buildings, the Grand Vault offers a vision of divine luxuriance amid a sea of mortal troubles. Radiant, as its grey-veined white marble reflects the midday sun, there’s little question that this place is the house of a god.

Yet, for a deity of law, the steep stairs and ramps leading up to the temple’s great bronze doors offer a strangely discordant scene. Dozens of citizens—mostly of the working class, although the silks of a few merchants show through the crowd—throng the entry, scarcely being held back by a group of gold-armored Abadarian clerics. All seem intent on gaining entry to the temple, but the clerics turn away nearly all comers. The clerics’ reasoning becomes clear as one desperate believer is turned away, his pitiful countenance mottled with violent red sores.

Zeph asks Majenko to fly in and deliver a message to the guards. They try to clear a path, but the crowd doesn’t budge until Barub shouts at them. Frightened, they pull back, granting us a path forward. We reach the guards, and they let us pass before closing ranks against the surging crown once more.

Ishani greets us near the entrance. His face is lined with worry.

“Thank you for coming. I assume you already suspect my reasons for calling, having seen the crowd outside—poor lot. The first was the proprietor of the Three Rings Tavern, and soon more came pouring in. You recognize the symptoms too, I’m sure. I had hoped the Soldado case was isolated, but apparently we have a bigger problem on our hands than I’d feared.”

He glances about nervously, then leads us to a quiter corner before continuing.

“I’m concerned for the city, but also for my brethren here. The morning after my visit to the Soldado home I came to the temple to hear that three of my brothers awoke with similar symptoms, although they had already been healed. I spoke to each, and aside from their usual duties in the temple, none have had any dealings with the sick. Later in the day, more of my brothers— vaultkeepers, guards, and acolytes—developed symptoms, and folk from throughout the city began arriving in search of healing. It’s been more than a little bit frightening. They’re calling the sickness ‘blood veil.’ An apt enough name, I suppose.”

I recall the incident with my fingernails the night before, but choose not to bring it up at this time.

“This affliction has spread fast, yet I’m not yet sure how. Most of the patients we’re treating have come from North Point and Old Korvosa. The disease seems to spread fastest through the lower classes. Although we here at the temple can heal some of the ill, I fear that the spread of the disease will soon outpace our resources. The only way to stem the growing infection is to involve all the city’s resources. We need to organize. We need to call upon the faiths of Sarenrae, Pharasma, and even Asmodeus to face this attack. Archbanker Tuttle and several of his assistants are out pursuing alliances with these other faiths, but even that won’t be enough. We need to involve the Korvosan Guard, at the very least. And that’s where you come in—with the number of desperate souls growing, it’s not particularly safe for a priest to walk the streets of Korvosa. I hear that you have a good relationship with Field Marshal Cressida Kroft—perhaps you would be willing to escort me to Citadel Volshyenek to introduce me to her?”

We agree to escort him, and though the streets are crowded, we make our way to the citadel with little difficulty. The echoes of forcefully spoken but still just-missed words resound off the imposing granite and iron walls of Citadel Volshyenek’s outer curtain. Dozens of red-and-silver-armored guards stand in assembly upon the pitted stone mustering ground here, mumbling in hushed, somber tones. Before them, atop a weathered wooden platform, paces Field Marshal Kroft, her eyebrows arched sternly as she momentarily tolerates the crowd’s murmurs. Behind her upon the scaffold stand three grizzled veteran guardsmen at attention, as well as an ominous-looking group. These men wear cowled robes of oily-looking leather, supple gloves, and wide black hats. Some grip heavy canes, others dark satchels. Each of them, though, wears a dark-goggled mask tapering to a pointed beak. Among them stand two others. The first is a middleaged gentleman in a simple black overcoat with streaks of white gracing the sides of his short dark hair. He watches the gathered guards with a soft, concerned expression, his hands tightly clasping a heavy-looking doctor’s case. The second figure is an imposing one indeed—a woman dressed in full-plate armor, a longsword and shield at her side, and her blank-faced full helm sporting a bright red plume.

The Field Marshal’s fierce tone cuts through the rumble of whispers. “You will escort Doctor Davaulus and his men in their royal duties wherever those might take them. Furthermore, you are to consider orders from any of the queen’s new order of Gray Maidens to be as binding as any superior officer in the Korvosan Guard or Sable Company. You are guardsmen of Korvosa. You will not balk. These are dire times and your city needs these healers. Your city needs you. Your patrol leaders have your assignments. Dismissed!”

As the guards leave, Kroft notices our arrival, and though she seems agitated, she greets us warmly and gestures for us to join her in her office.

“I assume you’re hear to help combat the disease?”

We nod, and she introduces us to Dr. Devaulus. He appears calm, and speaks in a slow and deliberate tone, claming to have served Ileosa’s family for years in Egorian. He received the call yesterday and came at once to assist in any way he can. The discussion soon turns to the blood veil and what might have caused it. Rumors abound regarding the sunken ship, which seems a plausible source I also mention the coins Brienna found, but we can find no link between them and the illness.

In the end, we come to no sure conclusion, and after Ishani and Dr. Devaulus have a private conversation, Ishani turns to us and requests we serve as representatives of Abadar.

Pathfinder Curse of the Crimson Throne Campaign Notes

Setting: The city of Korvosa, in the region of Varisia, world of Golarion, CE 4708

Player Character Roster

The Second Harrow – performed by the ghost of Zellara Esmeranda

Locations of Note