Under Crimson Skies
After a short and bloody interrogation, Gaedren lay dead upon his bed, and the party recovered the spoils of his hoard. Among them several artifacts, a wand of some power, and a strange jeweled brooch. Though tired from the ordeal, the party’s rest was cut short as Aliana, instead of hearing the clear peal of morning’s bells, instead heard the ringing of mourning bells. Soon other sounds, shouts and screams, could be heard from the streets beyond the warehouse.
The chaos of the day followed on the heels of the party as they made their way through the city. The King was dead. The Queen accused by the peasantry of being a harlot and murderer. The Guard tried to restore order but a city on the edge quickly spiraled into anarchy.
In the span of a single day, the heroes prevented the cold execution of looters, stopped a mob from beating a young nobleman to death, and witnessed carnage and blood on a scale rarely seen in the city. Slowly, they made their way towards where they’d seen a Sable Company marine go crashing down among the rooftops in hopes of getting their before the mobs.
On the street though, they were stopped by the mad ravings of a street beggar. “The Eye of Groetus has turned from the Boneyard to look upon Korvosa!” he screamed and shouted “Death, death and the end times come to all!”. He grabbed onto Aron’s tunic, looking hard into his eyes, “You, you are the flickering candle in the dark, the dreams have spoken! They cannot be deNIED!”. The beggar barely managed to choke out those last words before doubling over in a cackling mad laughter. The echoes of the laughter hung in the air as he slumped to the ground dead. The prophecy had disturbed the party, but not more so than the discovery of Zellara’s Harrow Deck among the beggar’s possessions. How had it gotten there? Hadn’t they left the deck along with Zellara’s head in Gaedren’s den?
Eventually, a trail of smashed chimneys and griffon feathers led the party to the ruin of a storefront, the body of the griffon and rider within. They had hurried to the location but they were not the first to arrive. After a short but fierce battle with a Duster gang, the party secured the crash site just as a patrol of Korvosan Guard arrived. Grau, the Watch Sergeant, thanked the party for restoring some measure of calm to the city, and escorted them to the Bank of Abadar for some much needed rest.
The white marble temple, with gilded golden parapets and similarly armored guards, offered the party a secure, safe courtyard they could finally collapse down into. As a sleepless night, and a day of blood and riots drew to a close, the party dropped their gear to the ground, and fell into a deep slumber. The blood red sun slowly sank on the horizon as a restless city truly began to mourn the death of their king.