Trail of Blood

Erin crouched awkwardly in the low crawl space beneath Giotorri’s Toys, watching the others move into positions around the cellar. Movement in the cramped space was difficult with all the junk that was piled almost to the low ceiling: stacks of mismatched lumber, half-empty cans of paint, broken tools, bolts of faded cloth. But nestled among the junk were four wooden coffins, and she was certain they were not empty.

The Hungry Dead

The party continued their debate about what to do with the supposed “cure” for Blood Veil that they’d purchased at Lavender for most of their hike back across Korvosa. Some wanted to take it to the Temple of Pharasma to be analyzed by their clerics and alchemists. Others wanted to do the same, but at the Bank of Abadar. Nat offered to analyze it himself, but after some questioning from the group, his confidence in the depth of his alchemical knowledge began to wane. Finally they circled back to their original idea: Go to Cressida Kroft and drop the problem in her lap.

Plague Rats

“Do we have any way of knowing who owned that ship, the Direption?” Nat asked. They were still in Kroft’s office, trying to unravel the mystery surrounding the ship that had been sunk almost two weeks ago, near the start of the epidemic of Blood Veil that had engulfed Korvosa. They’d found evidence tying the ship to the cult of Urgathoa, but nothing to indicate the ship had carried the plague - or anyone or anything else for that matter.

The Wreck of the Direption

With Ishani Dhatri disguised to hide his identity as a cleric of Abadar, the party had little trouble escorting him away from the desperate mob around the Bank of Abadar and across town to Citadel Volshyenek. Once away from the Temple, the city’s normal hustle and bustle seemed more subdued today: the waterfront seemed less hectic, market squares had fewer market stalls and only scattered shoppers, and a handful of shops were shuttered even at mid-day. When they reached the Citadel, the guard at the gate recognized them and gave a friendly wave. “You’d better hurry,” he urged. “The briefing’s already started!”