Note: This was mostly written by Zach so it’s strongly from Toadie Dixon’s perspective. Everyone is encouraged to edit it to a more balanced perspective please! I don’t want this to feel like Toadie’s campaign!
The setting is a home near the docks. Looked kind of shoddy on the outside, but turned out to be cozy and pleasant on the inside. Well, except for the fact that alived there.
We start things off with Toadie arriving first to this house. He tried knocking on the door. When no one answered, he tried the handle and was surprised to find the home was unlocked. He let himself in. Before he’d hardly established his bearings, in walks an Elf. I’m not sure Toadie ever did get her name until much later. He asked if she owned this home. She said no. After an uncomfortable pause, Toadie asked what she was doing here. She said vaguely ‘just looking around’ which would end up being the first of many comments to annoy Toadie tonight. She asked what Toadie was doing here, but upon finding out that she was from out of town, he just answered that he was seeking information about someone (knowing that she couldn’t possibly know about the villainous Gaedren Lamm).
As the ensuing awkward silence become longer and more uncomfortable, the door bursts open and in rushes a Dwarf, flourishing some weapon (Toadie’s recollection was that it was likely an axe or a hammer, although perhaps a sword..?) and demanding something of Gaedren. He seemed a little set back that a bored, irritated human and an absent, detached elf were there to greet him instead of this sinister Gaedren fellow. But Toadie Dixon’s ears perked up at the mention of this hateful person and soon the two bonded over the knowledge that they were both hunting the same man. The Dwarf’s name was
Franz Faustin and he was a Hellknight of the Order of the Nail who liked to say things like ‘Ever the janitor, always the king’ or some such nonsense. A few of these sorts of utterances soon had Toadie bewildered and irritated. Why must people speak in riddles instead of just getting to the point! But all in all Franz Faustin seemed like an alright type, considering [that he is a Hellknight]. His breath reeked of booze but he seemed surprisingly present.
After a few minutes of conversation that managed to vacillate between pleasant and bothersome, a pretty enough girl walks in [I’m not sure
Franz Faustin ever did close the door after his dramatic entrance] who sits down. It didn’t take Toadie long to realize she was most definitely not his type. I’m not sure anyone had ever gotten under Toadie’s skin like that just on first impression. She managed to answer every question with a question, which made Toadie rather cross. Why couldn’t anyone just answer a damn simple question this evening! He never did figure out who she was or what she was doing here or whether she was good at sneaking until much later.
To be fair, perhaps a big reason why this woman (who’s name was Olive, it turns out) was unable to answer Toadie’s rather aggressive questioning was that a drunk woman tottered in. Well not quite tottered but you know what it looks like when a drunk person is very obviously trying to appear sober. That was this girl. She walked to the table without a word and dropped her head with a thump. Without sitting in the chair. As if this evening wasn’t queer enough.
I can’t remember what she said because very soon after that a gnarled old woman [the Fortunate Teller who’s home we had unceremoniously invaded] waltzed in smug as a peach. She made a great show of how she knew things about us, but everything was said cryptically (of course.) and with a wink. Except when it came to ol’ Toadie. She just came right out and told everyone who he was. It wasn’t any great secret but still. With a twinkle in her eye she offered to tell the group their fortunes, which some accepted more gratefully than others.
Oh sorry I drifted off there!
She went on and on with a load of nonsense. Toadie might regret his surly behavior later as he usually strives to be a much politer gentleman than was on display tonight. Her son was killed by Gaedren Lamm and the lady certainly deserved some more solemn respect and kindness and all that gravitas sort of business for such an ordeal.
In the end she did give the location of Gaedren for which Toadie was genuinely grateful for. He thanked her as kindly as he could (he was still in a rather surly mood from all his many sufferings) and then departed with his only (surprising) ally in The Drunk. ‘Ally’ is used generously here as Toadie really had no idea what this woman’s opinion of him was, but beggers could not be choosers on a night like this. She seemed the most of like mind of the bunch. As they were leaving, they caught
Franz Faustin very blatantly hitting on the shriveled crone. Eeesh. Well Toadie and The Drunk went to drop some stuff off at Toadie’s place (he needed to collect his gear as well). They found they were being followed by that aggravating Olive who appeared to be making an effort to go unnoticed. Alika and Franz Faustin caught up soon as well and it seems that the group was going to make a go at getting this Gaedren Lamm fellow together.
The session ended with the party heading towards The Docks in search of Gaedren. The hushed, incessant bickering of Toadie and Olive gently drift over the roofs of an unusually tranquil, placid Korvosan night. The patient Drunk, the horny Dwarf and the silent Elf trail quietly along in solemn anticipation of what is to come..