Curse of the Crimson Throne

The Masque of the Blood Veil

Yee-Haw! Jester's Dea... err... nevermind.

After their underwater foray, the heroes determine the next step in their investigation of the Blood Veil to be the home of a pair of bards rumored to have some sort of money moving scheme involving the spread of the plague. They make ready and check their gear, ensuring they are prepared for anything.

Thorgrym Sharkslayer with his dog Bucho, Sandor Strongbellows, Morkeleb the Mighty, Gaius Lirsiiv, Ferox Kerr and Odric the Stout make their way to the bards’ home.

The bard siblings living in a modest apartment near the Marbledome. It’s a lower middle class abode, and clearly incongruent with the amount of wealth they’re reported to be flaunting these days.

Grym makes an initial assessment of the building, ostensibly on a walk with Bucho. He reports back to the group, “Two exits. Front and back. Apartment is second story. There are 3 stories to the building. Shades are closed tight.”

Gaius theorizes the poor bards are probably dead of the blood veil inside. Though Gaius is probably right, Grym none the less delivers his his plan of attack. The ranger wants everyone ready for an evening assault.

Gryms rough plan is outlined as follows. 
Gaius and Morkeleb try a frontal approach. The Calistrians well versed tongue and possibly the wizards magic get them in the door. The Stout and “short and stout” stay just around the corner ready to back them up if violence happens. 
Grym and Bucho cover the backdoor. 
Ferox is covering the roof ready to run them down as only an Inquisitor can.
The ranger is happy to use a different plan if someone has a better one, as long as it is tonight. Grym informs his mates, “the moment is upon us.”

Everyone takes their positions, certain that this will not be a repeat of the chase for Trinia. Gaius takes the lead on the door, Morkeleb just behind and to the side of him. A simple knock brings no answer. After a few moments, Gaius tries again. This time the half-elf catches just the tiniest sound, a whimper. He looks to Morkeleb, but the wizard clearly didn’t hear anything out of sorts. Gaius forgoes the third knock in favor of checking the door… it’s unlocked.

Just barely he opens the door a crack. What he sees is…unexpected.

The door opens to an unwelcomed sight. A girl, just barely an adult stands awkwardly on the other side. Aimed directly into Gaius’s face is a crossbow. The quarrel’s tip is shaking like a leaf in the wind. “Please… I don’t want to shoot you but I will. Just go away”

Morkeleb calmly tells the girl from behind Gaius, “We are not here to harm you. We are here to make the madness stop. Put the weapon down.

Whispered to Gaius, “I can Daze her…”

Gaius gently but firmly kicks backwards, hitting Morkeleb in the shins.
Will she shoot? He wonders, buthe doesn’t think she has it in her heart to shoot him.
Gaius shows the girl his hands and inches forward. One inch. If that. He wants to watch her eyes and his muscles, looking for a tell.

“Easy. I bring no evil to you and yours, and I don’t wanna die. My name is Gaius Lirsiiv. I’m a priest. I want to help you. Please don’t shoot.”

She drops the crossbow to the ground, setting it off and sending a bolt into her door frame over Gaius’s head. She bursts into tears and simply sits down on the floor. Her tears become sobs. It is only after a few repetitions that Gaius can make out words between shuddering sadness. “Oh Ruan…. Desna why?”

Gaius steps past her gingerly, looking around the apartment. He sees an extremely modest apartment. There are playbills and posters strewn about. The furnishings look one step above destitute.

Gaius sits next to her on the floor.

“You must be Deyanira. Shhhhhhhhh… I hear you’re a singer. Do you know The Star Sailor? It’s an Elven song to Desna. Will you sing with me? If you don’t know the words, just hum a little, and come in when you pick up the chorus, alright?”

“Sail with me, upon that star
Far and away from who you are
Monarch of Night bless my way
Free me from my cares today
I’ve stayed to long and yearn to see
new roads, new friends, new destiny
A little luck is all we’ll need
Sing The Song of Stars and we’ll be freed…”
After Gaius succeeds in calming her…
“Deyanira… What happened to Ruan?”

“Yes, I’m Deyanire” She says as she calms down slightly. “Oh by Desna I thought you were here to do something bad to me. Ruan, my brother Ruan. He’s lost. He went to that gods-be-damned manor. He…. he didn’t want to, but the money. Oh no. What has happened? RUAN! Please, I don’t know what brought you here, but….oh Ruan.”

“Start from the beginning, Deyanira. Please tell me what happened.”

The ranger waits watching the back door with a hunter’s patience. Bucho twitches a little and straining his ears Grym can hear a few low words from the front entrance. If there were danger certainly he would hear some screams or one of the warrior’s battle cries. 
Then the dog tilts his head in confusion as he listens. Then the dog looks up at his master.

“Yes Buch, I believe that is the Star Sailor they are singing.” Grym whispers to his dog. “I know. I don’t understand the Calistran either. But he does seem to get results…”

The hunter and his dog continue to wait with patience. A magical shark slaying dagger lightly held in his left hand ready for a sudden danger. Right hand touching his dog’s back as if to hold him in stasis.

The distraught girl manages to pull herself together, and begin her tale. She’s oblivious to the setting, sitting on her floor with a strange half-elf and a growing audience of battle hardened adventurers. She tells he sad tale.

“Several days ago, Ruan came home excitedly, which was odd. Things were hard before the Blood Veil, now they had become like the Underworld incarnate. But there he was, delighted. He showered me with coin, gold beyound my wildest imagination. At first I didn’t even think. I cried and ran my fingers through it. A full thousand Crowns, more than we had ever seen. My wits finally returned, this was too good to be true. I thought long about simply not asking, but I couldn’t. I had to know. Oh Desnda I had to know. Ruan said that he had been personally requested to perform at a private masquerade at Carowyn Manor, home of the well-known patrons of the arts. He really is THAT good, but we don’t have anyway of attracting a patron like that. He said that one of the Carowyn’s heard him play and offered him the job! He practiced for a week, oh did he practice. It was a challenging new arrangement, and he left early the evening of the event. That was several days ago and the last time I saw him. When Ruan didn’t return I went to the manor. I banged on the gates. I screamed. I begged. Nothing.”

“At the end of the day I went home. The citadel is stretched too thin, so I came up with a plan. I would use all the gold Ruan brought and buy the services of the Church of Abadar. It was a solid plan…or so I thought. When I arrived home, the apartment had been ransacked. The gold was gone, all of it. I was shattered. I contemplated every course of action, no matter how dark. Without any means I went back to the manor. I planned on breaking in. Instead I was met at the gate by a greasy looking man in robes. He smelled of death. I nearly retched. He looked into my eyes and promised me, “Forget your brother ever existed girl. Stay in your home and forget any of this happened.”

“I was scared out of my mind. I went home. That was yesterday morning. I needed food, so I ventured out. When I returned… oh Desna…. When I returned my stupid neighbor had broken into my apartment. At least that’s what I thought happened. There….there was a body on my floor. A knife sunken into her back. She, she looks like me…and I’m ashamed to say…. I think the knife was meant for me. I… I called the guards. I lied to them. I told them that a looter had broken in and I defended myself. I was scared that the truth would expose me and I’d end up with a dagger in my own back. I’ve been locked in here ever since…”

“There, there…” Odric pats her reassuringly on the shoulder.

A knowing look passes between Odric and Sandor, then between Odric and Grym, then all three were nodding with a palpable air of decision. Odric unobtrusively starts warming up in preparation for violence and justice.

“A thousand gold coins. What a coincidence, eh gentlemen?” Morkeleb says, “Ferox, you’re more skilled in the healing arts than I am—perhaps you should look this girl over for signs of the Blood Veil.” The wizard continues, “Something tells me we have a lead on that second coffer.”

Sandor nods, “I agree Morkelb.”

“Deyanire, my name is Sandor. I am sorry to hear about your neighbor, and I am afraid ya are probably correct that the knife was meant for you. I think we might have a place to keep ya safe. But first do ya think ya can draw the likeness of the greasy lookin man at the gate? Maybe recall if he was wearing any jewelry or symbols?”

Sandor looks at Morkeleb who he knows carries writing materials “Do ya have anything this lass can draw wit?”

After the short conversation is done with her, and she is sketching away. Sandor walks away a short distance, and gathers everyone around for a group huddle. Speaking softly “Lads she might be our lead back to the queen, or her lackey. I suggest we take her to someone we know isn’t in the Queen’s corner. Me thinks Vencarlo might help us out ’ere ’n keep ’er safe a bit. At least it will give us time to go check out the Carowyn manor.”

“Curious.” Gaius strokes his chin thoughtfully.

Out of Deyanira’s earshot he asks, “Sandor, I think your instincts are good. Vencarlo’s been willing and able to hide people in the past. We should check her to see if she’s been infected, first. I will try, but The Inquisitor is more skilled in medicine than I. Another option would be to send her to my temple. Another young girl will hardly be conspicuous there.”

“The thousand crowns is suspicious. The exact sum we found in the other coffer. And bestowing the crowns on a couple of spend-thrift bards is a good way to spread the gold, the disease, and then you tie up the loose ends by killing the bards. The Masquerade event would conceal the identity of everyone from Ruan, just as the Doctors’ Masques do.”

“I’d even wager that Ruan was only one of multiple gold drops. If they keep filling the coffer, infecting gold, and then drop another pile on someone who won’t ask too many questions about it, they can kill everyone in Korvosa. The rate of infection would far surpass the city’s ability to contain it. And the gold is likely to be used as payment for Remove Disease spells. That would infect the very people best equipped to cure the disease. And since they don’t know the source, it will just keep infecting them. Every caster runs out of spells eventually.”

“What concerns me as well… Are the vampire spawn we discovered. True coincidence is rare. Urgrathoa is also a goddess of undeath. BLOOD Veil. It’s on my mind.”

“We should make preparations and strike Carowyn Manor without delay.”

Gaius contructs a simple disguise for the girl, Odric and Sandor accompany Morkelb on the trip to Vencarlo’s to hide the girl while the others scout the manor. Sandor retains the sketch the lass created, although its utility is lessened by the stereotypical “greasy necromancer type” she drew.
The scouting party arrives at a stately, gabled manor along Shoreline Way, Carowyn Manor serves as stark contrast to their normal stomping grounds. Built for entertaining, the estate includes the manor house itself, a smaller servants’ residence, and a meticulously manicured garden—complete with gazebo and pond full of Ember Lake charigs (tiny salamanders that glow in the dark). Festooned with cinderberry garlands and bright red drapes, the limestone facade of Carowyn Manor faces Shoreline Way. Its sturdy-looking doors of Bloodsworn mahogany bear intricately etched locks. The brass banisters of a balcony rise 15 feet above the front door—a nimble person could get up there with little difficulty. The entire property is surrounded by hedges growing around a barely-hidden spiked iron fence.

After a lengthy discussion on the best way to breach the house, Ferox notes, “If the front of the house faces Shoreline Way, we’re probably safe climbing to the front balcony. Shoreline Way looks directly out over the sea and the South Shore is less populated than other districts of Korvosa. We’re likely not to be noticed by neighbors or passing traffic if we do this under the cover of night.”

Gaius climbs the balcony and lowers a rope for the rest of the party to follow. Once the rope is secured and Gaius can take a look around he blanches slightly.

Finely framed works of art cover the walls of the gallery, looking down upon the hall below. Great windows look out to the south, and an alcove to the east is set with chairs for musicians. In mockery of the room’s beauty, several costumed corpses stand about the hall, some posed like ghastly statues while others stand like contemplative critics. Their masks are garish like only the filthy rich can sport. The juxtaposition is macabre. The entire area is a macabre construction. It’s as if some supernatural being set the house up like a child’s playhouse replacing dolls with the corpses of the rich…

The group clambers up, joining Gaius on the balcony.

They pass the glass windows where they could look into the macabre setting and and enter through an open door into an office.

The party stepped into an office. The desk and drawers have been completely emptied and left in a mess. A single pustule ridden corpse sits at the desk. He wears a simple mask made to resemble a hummingbird. The body has been propped up by means of wooden stakes both braced against him and impaled through his limbs. It doesn’t take a keen eye to spot the lone detail more morbid than the corpse. He’s been propped to look like he’s writing. Indeed a feather pen rests in his hand, the remaining ink having drained onto the paper like a blot of blood. The words are written with a shaky hand with a child’s poem rewritten with disturbing lines:

Roses are red
growing sharp thorns
I am now dead
Yet who now morns?

The assembled men each look at one another when they hear a lilting and unhinged voice. It seams to bounce around, like it’s coming from different places. “Welcome to my party, please don’t disturb the guests, I wouldn’t want to ruin their night!”

Odric unlimbers his weapon and hefts the falchion in his hands. He takes a few practice swings and stands with his back to the corner. The ranger already having one blade in hand quickly draws another. He looks around in alarm…

Grym looks into the great room beyond. All is freakishly still….until a body dressed like a court jester moves, just a hint. He’s not even sure it happened, until the head turns ever so slightly and the mouth breaks into a wry grin and raises a crossbow!

The jester comes alive! She cackles, the sound assaulting your ears from all over. When the bolt leaves the crossbow, it screeches with the anger and hatred of the dead. Souls looking to inflict pain on all who hear their dirge. The sound grates against your very being. The bolt itself drills towards Grym’s heart. It strikes him with a sickening thud and sinks into his chest.

At the awful sound, Odric, Sandor, Ferox and Bucho are all severely shaken.

The jester, now out of hiding, draws a potion and drinks it. Within seconds her form vanishes to invisibility. Bucho fumbles around where he last saw the woman, and bites harmlessly at the air.
Gaius moves into the room, past one of the corpse objects d’art, draws his rapier and whispers a few words to Callistria. Half of the room fills with an Obscuring Mist. Gaius hides in the mist and tunes his ears, listening for movement.

Sandor enters the room and declares total Defense. He looks around for anything that would help detect an invisible creature like flour, makeup powder, fine down feathers, or his favorite for dressing like a girly dwarf, Glitter Powder. In the mist though, he can’t find anything.
The Inquisitor says some words of magic softly and casts Protection from Evil.

After some flailing about in the mist, Bucho catches the Jester’s scent and makes a beeline for her. As he corners her though, she shoots an arcane splash of acid straight onto him. The attack causes her invisibility to fade though.

Hearing the barking, the spellcasting, and the telltale yelp of the acid-burned dog, Morkeleb strides forward through the mist. Standing at the edge, he quickly casts his eyes back and forth between the alchemical bag, and arcane wand. He looks about at the mist he is still within, nods to himself firmly, and points the wand at the Jester, firing off a bolt. Morkeleb decides the jester is too tall and thin to be a human….perhaps an elf? The makeup is awfully heavy to make out features.

Gaius skulks through the mist along the railing and takes position in the mist, blocking the stairs. He readies his rapier for a sneak attack of the Jester comes in range. Ferox moves into the room and casts Divine Favor, hoping Abadar’s blessing will help put a quick end to the Jester.
Meanwhile, Sandor enters the mist towards the sound. Comes across the posed figure and smashes its head, splattering dead brains everywhere.

In a gambit to get to the Jester immediately, without wasting time running around the perimeter of the room, Odric springs over the railing, tumbling once on the floor before sprinting up the stair towards the jester. He immediately strikes out at the thing with his naked blade, hoping to quickly decapitate it and resume his search.

The landing jars his leg badly, but nonetheless he closes with the enemy and swings his massive blade towards her, cutting a huge gash into her side. Rather than cry in pain, she laughs at the massive gash in her side. With confidence, she tumbles down the stairs, over Odric and away from Grym. As she passes. Odric is able to lash out yet again with the Kegerator and slice her deeply.
When she finally stops tumbling, she aims a finger at the big man and a black slams into his chest, the Stout seems a little less so the next instant. He suffers an enervating power that saps his strength.

Meanwhile some of the propped up corpses begin to move and in a strange macabre way dance towards members of the party. They are slow moving and clumsy, and Ferox, Morkeleb, Bucho and Odric all avoid their attacks easily.

Morkeleb utters a curse for having been fool enough to walk into the trap. Knowing it’s a dangerous move he drops his wand of Magic Missile, and draws forth the Burning Arc wand.

His instinct is to point it at the foe he’s facing—but he pauses briefly, and looks behind him at the one in front of Ferox and Sandor. If that one is taken down quickly, they can more quickly come to his aid—it’s more tactically sound to strike that one first. He levels the wand at the foe blocking the door, and an intensely bright, focused line of fire blazes forth into its chest and a secondary bolt of flame arcs over to the foe adjacent to the wizard.

Gaius dismisses the Obscuring Mist and moves downstairs after The Jester, down the stairs ten feet and then jumps down to the floor. He lands on his feet, and closes to melee range.

“Quick everyone to the stairs, keep together. We can hold the undead off by using the stairs as a choke point.” The ranger calls to those still far away from the stairs.

Sandor attempts to smash the zombie with his shield pressing it against the door jamb and then bring the hammer down on its head. He misses woefully, and the mindless things clambers after him unabated.

Odric thunders after the evil creature and past Gaius and Bucho, ending up in an ideal flanking position with Thorgrym Sharkslayer’s faithful hound. As the dog growls and snaps at the Jester distracting her, Odric times his attack carefully and swings the Kegerator in a swooping arc for the fiend’s midsection. Odric slashes open the Jester’s side. She cries out in pain-pleasure.

As the heroes’ fight spills out into the ground floor, they can see the rooms beyond. A massacre took place here. Upon the marble floor and heaped in the corners lie more than a dozen corpses, each clad in garish outfits of sequined velvet, revealing silk, and colorful feathers. Masks of all shapes and sizes— each competing with the last in terms of elaborateness— adorn the dead. In several cases, though, these fanciful adornments have fallen away, revealing withered flesh covered in nauseating facial tumors. Most horrifyingly, upon a bloodslick space cleared at the room’s center sway three couples, jerking like hellish dancers, all obviously dead.

In the further room, visible only to Gaius and Odric, two dead nobles wearing matching lion and lioness masks sit before the empty fireplace, with a third zombie dressed as a peacock and holding a silver serving tray attending them.

Ferox takes a step back to make room for Sandor and to give himself some room to draw back on his bow safely.The Inquisitor quietly whispers a prayer to Abadar, calling for his aid to bring Justice to those massacred here.

Ferox then pulls back on his bow, two arrows nocked. He lets loose with silent determination. He drives two arrows home into the zombie before him. It doesn’t look like the piercing arrows do much good against the corpse however…

“Lets try this again bloody zombie is worse than the skele we were fightin’ in the tunnels” Sandor muses to himself.

Again Sandor slams him with the shield knocking him back out of the door way a bit. When the mindless thing comes back through the axe connects solidly with the forehead. The jester, seeing the situation turning poorly, makes a risky choice. she makes as if moving to attack, then steps back and draws forth a potion.

As she is distracted, both Odric and Bucho press their attack, to no avail. She downs the potion and vanishes, but not before she shouts, “May dear partygoers, kill them and eat them!”
Thirteen zombies converge on the heroes, the press of undead flesh is awful and relentless. Morkeleb, Grym, Bucho and Odric are all hurt by them, while the crowding and sluggish nature of their reanimated flesh cause the majority to miss.

Bucho can’t get a lock on the zombie behind him fast enough. Meanwhile, upstairs, Morkeleb fires another charge from the Wand at the zombie who just hit him. The first arc explodes on the zombie in front of him, and the second arcs back over his head to strike the zombie by Ferox and Sandor. The zombie in front of him incinerates, leaving a pile of ash.

At the bright flash of flame the ranger unconsciously ducks a little as he is battling with the zombies. Risking a glance over he is amazed at the wizard’s display of fiery power. He also sees how far apart the team is getting. He shouts over toward Morkeleb the Fiery, Sandor, and Ferox. “Fight your way to the stairs. We can make a stand here. A huge mess of undead are swarming our brothers downstairs!” 
Thorgrym slips another zombie arm and vows to work on his ability to deal with the undead.

Odric hacks at the zombie in front of him with a viscous snarl. The Inquisitor strikes the zombie with an arrow to no effect, then with his righteous rage bubbling up to the surface, the second blunt arrow bursts through the walker’s forehead and the monster drops to the floor. Grym’s shout to the allies upstairs are nearly drowned out by Odric’s snarl. Thank Cayden that the fighter’s swing cuts the zombie’s head from its body.

The ranger light on the balls of his feet moves and attacks the zombie with everything he has. Grym slashes a zombie with his svord. The beast doesn’t fall, but is injured badly. The dagger misses its mark.

Gaius channels positive energy, damaging all undead in a 30 foot burst, however these zombies are quite resistant as a group. Morkeleb the Mighty makes a quick assessment of the battle. With a confident step forward he aims his wand at the zombie between him and the ranger. The Burning Arc flies forth. The zombie before Grym bursts into flame, and is reduced to ash in seconds. The second zombie is also extremely injured, and a good slash from Grym is sure to bring him down.

Odric swings the Kegerator mightily, the veins of his massive arms standing out starkly against his sweat sheened skin. The blade carves into the first zombie it can bite and continues with so much force that it cleaves into the zombie beside it. Gore and a nauseating smell of death abound.
As fighting swarms below him, Ferox rushes to the edge of the balcony and hopes to aid the others downstairs. Seeing the zombie blocking the way to the stairs, he quickly pulls an arrow and lets loose against the undead creature.

Not sure whether to be annoyed at Ferox for killing his Zombie or thankful, Grym decides to go with teamwork. “Thanks Ferox!” he shouts as he turns and pounds down the stairs. Trying to take some of the heat off of Gaius the ranger leaps onto zombie. 
In the tight quarters the ranger leads with his trusty dagger.

Gaius once again channels positive energy to harm the un-dead. Again the burst of holy power washes over the restless dead and while none explode, they moan with hatred. One manages a swing at Gaius on his way back, but it was a miss.

A mad cackle from behind Odric presages the Jester’s sneak attack. Her invisibility spell vanishes as she pulls the trigger on her crossbow. A screaming bolt heads right towards Odric when he wasn’t expecting it! After the shot she opens the door to her right and steps inside.

The bolt literally screeches towards the big warrior. The eerie scream gets to the big man and he feels shaken to his core.

With half of the zombies dead, the remaining concentrate their attacks on Odric and Bucho. The human escapes injury, but the faithful hound falls. The zombies bring the poor dog down and turn their attention to Gaius! Bucho is dying on the floor.

Morkeleb makes for the top of the stairs, points his wand at the undead horde mobbing gallant Odric, and lets loose with his Burning Arc. The first zombie is utterly incinerated. The second doesn’t look good at all. Sandor runs down the stairs, and stands protectively over Bucho.

Ferox continues with his onslaught. The blunt arrows making a sickening sound like a melon cracking when they hit. The stench is horrendous. The zombie drops with nary a reaction.

Odric hacks at the partially concealed Jester in desperation. The Kegerator screams towards her with a frightening amount of power. He misses her completely though. Odric takes a huge chunk out of the door frame, and is met with a cackle from the jester. A split second later, Grym makes two hits with his melee weapons which are what it takes to bring down another zombie.

The jester pulls an end around and readies her crossbow. When she sees only two remaining zombies she drops it. “I give, I surrender. Zombies, HALT!”

Hearing the jester’s cry, the wizard is dubious. he makes his way—partway—down the stairs, and levels his staff at the jester.

He is ready to hit her with magic missile if she starts to cast anything.

As soon as there is a lull in combat the ranger leaps over the fallen zombie and kneels before his loyal injured dog. “Thank you noble dwarf” Grym picks up the dog’s head and tilts it back so he can pour a potion of Cure Light Wounds down the hatch.

Ferox appoaches the Jester, bow drawn. He makes sure that his Key is in plain sight.

“Drop your weapons and take off the mask. Then put your hands on top of your head. You have a lot to answer for. By Abadar, you are going to answer all of our questions and you might live to see morning.”

The jester dejectedly removes her mask. Underneath is an elf that has let her beauty waste away. Her eyes still hold an inborn fire, but it’s lost and gives you the feeling that she’s suffered some kind of mental break. She makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle.

“I’ve no wish to die a final death Inquisitor, speak your questions and see them answered.”
A moment after her lucid response she returns to her giggling.

“But then again, death doesn’t seem to stop the party…Perhaps my darlings will dance with me! So long as I am free, what’s not to love about death?!”

“Boys, keep an eye on those zombies.” Morkeleb approaches the jester with a raised hand. “Let me help you…”

The wizard casts a spell, charming the elf temporarily. “But, before heading into the nether world, I can help out my nice new friends…”

Smiling with satisfaction at another erstwhile foe bending to his will, Morkeleb raises his eyebrows to his companions, a silent invitation to question her. “Yes, I’m your friend my dear. we’ll stop hurting you now—but tell me, what is the nature of what is going on here? You must admit, this is all pretty strange!”

The ranger shudders at the wizards spell. The ability to turn someone’s thoughts against them seems strange and beyond Grym’s ken. The ranger cleans the disgusting zombie gore from his blades. He sheathes the sword but drives the dagger into the wooden floor ready to pick up if the undead pose a threat. He begins to tend to his poor dog. He praises him for his bravery and gives him another potion.

Bucho eagerly laps up the potion, though still injured; he seems to be in a much better mood now. Once he sees there are still “walking” zombies though, he growls.

The Jester says, “My love and master was done with the party, so he let me have some fun. I wanted all of the patrons to keep dancing, but he only gave me two dozen! Still, he’s very good to me.”
Odric asks, “Who is your love and master?”

After quite an involved and frustrating conversation with the elf jester, the group comes away with some critical information.

“”/campaigns/sfoundercotct/characters/jolistina-susperio" class=“wiki-content-link”>Jolistina Susperio is my name you handsome dwarf.” She runs her fingers along Sandor’s scar. “Those are very sexy burns you have there. Teeheehee… And I’ve never heard the name, but a bard yes. Rolth bid me find a good looking Varisian that wouldn’t be missed, though he needed skill. He’s not here any more though. Rolth took him. Well his two manly women servants took him. They weren’t nice at all. They obeyed my Rolth, but they were covered head to toe in armor. How is that hot? I don’t know where, but I wasn’t done playing! I was going to have to leave soon anyway. These bodies all have the Blood Veil and I’m running out of spells to cure myself. I wish I knew where to direct you. Rolth is such a nice man when he’s not murdering. Tell him I love him and give him a kiss for me.”

The Jester is brought to the Bank as a patient, concealed beneath a hasty disguise. The Field Marshal is summoned and takes control of the prisoner. She urges the heroes to press on, following the leads they have uncovered.

Ion what seems to be an endless trail of leads, the party is oriented on a new threat, though one they have faced before indirectly. The Hospice of the Blessed Maiden seems to hold the next piece of the puzzle for the heroes.

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shihanmarsh Odric_the_Stout

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