Throne of Vermin
1.1 Haunted Fortunes
The interior of 3 lancet lane was cozy, purple cushions to recline on, and odd incense burners shaped like elves with butterfly wings hanging on the walls that left the room smelling like flowers and some strong spice she couldn't quite identify. And of course, the table in the center with the crystal ball in the middle. She wasn't the first to arrive it seemed. The others that the harrow card's message had promised seemed to have all arrived before her.
Hermione looked about the room. There were three others, each about her own age. There was a girl with dark blue hair in black leather armor with its own blue tint. The girl's leather armor was bedecked with pockets that all looked full, and a utility belt held even more pouches, as well as a small crossbow, and two daggers in sheathes. A quiver of bolts poked out from her knapsack set to her side.
The next figure, was dressed in the oddest armor she had ever seen, and ever since she'd gotten stuck here on Golarion, Hermione had had plenty of opportunity to see new types of armor. She was wearing an armored full body stocking and breastplate made out of black and gray silk and finely arranged and layered insect shells and exoskeletons. There were gloves (which currently held a scrap of parchment the figure was reading), and boots, and built into the back of the chitin breastplate was a storage compartment. But all of that paled beside the mask. It was made out of the same silk as the body suit, but with an insectoid helm atop it also made of chitin from insects. There were sections of armor designed to imitate a bug's mandibles while simultaneously protecting the wearer's jaw. All topped off with a pair of goggles with lenses made of dirty yellowed glass. The only clue as to the armored figure's gender was the long straight hair that flowed down from beneath the back of the helm. Propped up against the wall behind her was a Scythe whose blade connected to the haft in a stylized design that like the upper body of a praying mantis. There was a strange rune that Hermoine couldn't quite make out, carved into the haft. Now that Hermoine noticed it, a small copy of the same rune seemed to be etched into the breastplate of the figure's armor as well, perhaps an arcane mark? Though Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the figure were a fellow arcanist, how did the figure make the somatic motions necessary to complete most spells in that armor?
The final figure was male. His head was framed with shaggy dark brown hair. He wore a chain shirt and a long leather duster. But that wasn't what drew Hermione's attention. In his hand, being polished and cleaned was a battered and worn weapon that even so far removed from home she recognized instantly. A pistol. Not a complicated pistol. There was no magazine, so it had to be loaded a single shot at a time. And the firing mechanism used a piece of flint striking metal to make a spark. But it was a pistol nonetheless. Hermione didn't know what to make of it.
Hesitating, Hermoine withdrew the Harrow card that had brought her to this fortune teller's abode. "Did you all get one of these?" She asked.
"Affirmative." The young man with the gun answered.
"Our host isn't here yet." The voice from the figure in the insect armor was strangely feminine, "but she left us a note." She, Hermoine realized the figure was a girl, stood up and lifted the table cloth. "There's bread, and wine for us while we wait."
"So? Are all of you here about Gaedren Lamm?" Hermoine asked abruptly.
The blue haired girl smiled. "Huh. Straight to the point." She looked Hermione over appraisingly.
Despite being forced to drop out, Hermione was still dressed in her old Academae uniform, partially because the skirt, blouse, and robe combination reminded her of her Hogwarts Robes, which after several years on Golarion, no longer fit her, and partially because in Korvosa, the Academae uniform was a way to protect herself. The uniform was almost like a non-magical talisman; when people knew that you were studying magic, they left you alone, and most people recognized that those wearing an Academae uniform were studying magic.
"Yeah," The blue haired girl nodded. "At least, that's why I'm here." She paused before offering her hand to shake. "Coraline Jones."
"Hermoine Granger." Hermoine responded shaking the blue haired girl's hand.
"Kashim." The man in the duster responded, nodding curtly, continuing to clean and oil his gun at the same time.
"I suppose you can call me Skitter." the armored girl responded, her voice distorted behind her mask.
An odd collection of names, Hermione realized, some obviously the result of this world, like Skitter, Kashim, and Coraline, but some... like Coraline's last name, Jones, seemed almost as if they hailed from earth the same way Hermione did. Hermione shook her head. It wasn't the first time she'd experienced this same sort of... was anachronism the right word when you were discussing not just time but interdimensional inconsistencies? After years of disappointment, Hermione didn't have it in her to chase after another dead end.
"Gaedren Lamm, needs to die." Skitter continued. "Does anyone have a problem with that?"
Hermione shivered, after all these years she still wasn't quite used to the casual brutality of this world, where killing was a commonplace solution to problems. That said, she didn't exactly have any real qualms about removing Gaedren Lamm from this world. Not after what she'd learned about him, or the way he got her kicked out of school.
Coraline and Kashim shook their heads. "Nope." the blue haired girl responded. "No problem at all. So long as we don't make the same mistake he did with me and we make sure he's dead."
A hush fell over the room as each of the people inside contemplated what was about to happen.
It took barely a minute of silence before the door to 3 Lancet Lane was thrown open, letting in the chilly winter air. Framed in the door was an attractive, middle-aged woman whose features Hermione had come to associate with native Varisians. Her hair was long, and dark, and swept up in some sort of head scarf. There was a smile on her face asshe swept into the room, taking a seat at the head of the table, a deck of Harrow cards quickly appearing in her hands as if by magic. Hermione supposed it could actually be magic, though the way that the cards floated and danced across her fingers as she thoroughly shuffled the deck made the girl believe that slight of hand was much more likely as a cause.
"Thank you for coming, my friends, and for answering my, shall we call it, unconventional means of invitation." The woman smiled at each of the seated figures. "My name is Vellara, and I apologize for the inconvenience, but I couldn't afford to call attention to myself by approaching you openly. A terrible man would stop at nothing to harm me if he knew I had reached out for help. But, you all probably know Gaedren Lamm's capacity for cruelty already. His gift for destroying the lives of others is matched only by his skill at avoiding reprisal."
Vellara's voice was captivating, she was clearly a master storyteller. For a few moments Hermione wondered whether she was skilled in bardic magic, but she dismissed the thought as unimportant.
"A year ago, Gaedren's 'Little Lamms' stole my Harrow deck, the same one you see in my hands today. My deck is an heirloom, passed down through countless generations, from mother to daughter as far back as my family can remember. But more importantly, this deck is my only means to support myself."
The cards ceased to move and the woman's face drew taut. "You understand, then, that when it was stolen, my son, Eran, tracked the thieves down and attempted to get it back. And given your experience with Gaedren Lamm you understand what happened to him."
Hermione shuddered, she wasn't the only one either, Coraline was shuddering as well, Kashim's mouth had drawn tight and Skitter's hands were trembling, but without a view of her face, Hermione couldn't tell whether it was rage or fear that motivated the armored girl.
"When I asked the Korvosan guard for help, I was turned away. That didn't stop me. Recently, after gathering rumors, paying bribes and consulting my deck, I finally discovered Lamm's location. An old condemned fishery to the north at Westpier 17. It is here that he keeps his kidnapped child thieves, training them in crime and counting his stolen treasures.
"Unfortunately, though I know Lamm's location, I am at a loss. The guard moves slow enough that by the time they arrive, Gaedren will have left. And I am well aware that my own talents lie in divination, not combat. Lamm has evaded justice for decades, but I cannot allow that to continue. And neither, I hope, can you. In my searching for Gaedren I came upon your names. Gaedren has wronged each of you, just as he has wronged me.
"He has stolen your childhood, and left you for dead." She looked at Coraline.
"He has framed you for crimes he himself has committed and cost you your future." She eyed Hermione evenly.
"He has stolen your friends from you. Either through the poison he sells." She looked at Skitter. "Or through kidnapping." She looked at last, at Kashim.
"The time has come for Gaedren Lamm to pay for his crimes. "
A Worm/Pathfinder/Full Metal Panic/Coraline/harry Potter crossover. Because We've had a number of D&D fics, but no actual D&D parties.
All of the characters are from their respective series though they aren't necessarily from the END of their series. If/when I continue this, you'll get more information as the story goes on with regard to that. Perspective will shift from Hermione to Taylor, to Coraline. Maybe to Kashim as well. I have a rough outline of the plot (which is vaguely based off The Curse of the Crimson throne though with some liberal changes based on the character inclinations and such). we'll see what happens.