The blood looks freshly poured, but is actually quite old. As soon as Narvik and Maaarv move forward to investigate, the blood erupts in flames and three dervishes appear in the midst of the Pathfinders.
Perception:
Initiative:
One of the dervishes focus on Baldwyn, while the other two attempt to deal with the intruders.
Total Damage
Baldwyn:
Narvik:
Maaarv:
Initiative:
1st: Dervishes
2nd: Maaarv @ 20/45 HP; Narvik @ 36/41 HP; Baldwyn @ 62/74 HP; Obyrn @ 36/36 HP
Narvik swings, but misses.
Obyrn and Baldwyn take down one of the Dervishes with a flurry of blows.
Maaarv flies directly upward, drawing an attack from his opponent.
The Dervish that was focusing on Maaarv moves onto the Barbarian while the other one stabs at Narvik with his Punching Dagger again.
All of their attacks miss and the realization that they are about die dawns on them.
Initiative:
1st: Dervishes
2nd: Maaarv @ 20/45 HP; Narvik @ 43/41 HP; Baldwyn @ 62/74 HP; Obyrn @ 36/36 HP
Narvik bashes the man, but he is still standing.
Initiative:
1st: Dervishes
2nd: Maaarv @ 20/45 HP; Narvik @ 43/41 HP; Baldwyn @ 62/74 HP; Obyrn @ 36/36 HP
Baldwyn trips the bandit on Narvik's side of the fire pit, but is unable to convert the trip into a solid hit.
Maaarv tosses a bomb down and incinerates the prone bandit, adding to the piles of flaming blood by about 10 pints.
Initiative:
1st: Dervish
2nd: Maaarv @ 20/45 HP; Narvik @ 43/41 HP; Baldwyn @ 62/74 HP; Obyrn @ 36/36 HP
Obyrn holds off on doing anything as he looks over the temple.
The combination of blood, natural fire and alchemical fire begins to give off a large amount of smoke from the fire pit. The last remaining Dervish takes this opportunity to move behind the smoke and flee.
Status:
Maaarv @ 20/45 HP; Narvik @ 43/41 HP; Baldwyn @ 62/74 HP; Obyrn @ 36/36 HP
Status:
Maaarv @ 28/45 HP; Narvik @ 43/41 HP; Baldwyn @ 62/74 HP; Obyrn @ 36/36 HP
Status:
Maaarv @ 28/45 HP; Narvik @ 43/41 HP; Baldwyn @ 62/74 HP; Obyrn @ 36/36 HP
Narvik heals up the party.
Baldwyn and Maaarv attempt to hunt down the remaining dervish, but he appears to have vanished, which isn't surprising considering the ambush.
Two stairways lead up to a curtain-shrouded balcony, where a massive brazier burns below a smashed skylight. The ruddy light illuminates an ominous bronze idol with the head of a bull.
Fragments of jewelry and human bone lie buried in the brazier’s ashes, including an iron holy symbol of Iomedae with the initials “C.P.” engraved on the back. Although such diabolical worship is technically permitted in Qadira, human sacrifices are illegal.
The northern chamber contains a slave pen with bloodied manacles inside while the southern room is an office with a desk and two chairs.
Heaped notes and letters lie atop the office desk. One parchment mentions that an Andoren meddler had been dealt with while another names Ibn-Chadli and states that the sorcerer hired the dervishes as guards.
Although Raamiz Ibn-Chadli has paid us well, I fear that his gold may cost us in the end. Those Chelish slavers he deals with are little better than pirates. Rather than load the Incubus in the harbor, as any legitimate vessel would, he had us bring the slaves to an isolated stretch of coastline miles from town. I’m not a fearful man, but the Incubus is bound to be caught eventually—you can be sure they’ll turn on us when the Satrap’s questioners talk to them.
Worse yet, Ibn-Chadli’s vizier is not what he appears. He’s forced us to build a monstrous shrine in our hall, making each of us participate in his rituals. I was forced to swear I wouldn’t reveal what he is, but that unholy thing is binding us all into some sor…
A bloodstained box in the office holds the stolen portrait of Prince Khasine and bags of Chelish gold. All of it appears to be valued at 1,900 gp.
The merchants seem to blow Maaarv off as he doesn't seem very subtle and if they knew something, then they aren't going to impart it to someone of his social caliber.
Obyrn investigates around the city with the help of Narvik, while Baldwyn and Maaarv venture off as well. As each of the teams is investigating the Incubus around town, each pair is approached by a company of three dozen heavily-armored horsemen and a handful of robed and veiled sorcerers approach, their splendid equipment gleaming mirror-bright.
From their midst, a massively built man rides forward, his face obscured by a golden helm. “Pathfinders Maarv and Baldwyn!” he shouts. “You are hereby arrested and ordered to appear before the Court of His Exalted Eminence, Xerbystes II, Defender of the Zho and Satrap of Glorious Katheer, praise be upon him. Lay down your arms and come with us to hear your accusers, lest you arouse the terrible displeasure of His Eminence!”
Obyrn and Narvik suffer the same fate as the others.
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Maaarv takes a moment to process what is happening. "Wait, what? Arrested!?"
Maaarv slowly brings his hands up, but as he brings one of his hands up, he tries to palm his extract of expeditious retreat from his bandolier without the shiny-armored horsemen noticing.
If he goes unnoticed, Maaarv will drink the extract and start trying to escape from the horsemen.
Initiative:
Maaarv stealths the extract from his bandolier, then quickly drinks it in front of the men and flees 60' from the guards, down a side alley that will hinder the large warhorses.
The leader of the company bellows. Brigades Aroden and Brigh with me. Katheel! Sadaqa! Guard this man with Brigade Cayden.
The horses give chase with three of the sorcerers. They are stymied by the narrow alleyway. Brigade Brigh! Satrall! Brigan! Dismount and follow him! The rest of you are coming with me to meet him in the market! Twelve of the soldiers dismount and begin to pursue the fleeing alchemist down a narrow alleyway, accompanied by two of the sorcerers. The remaining soldiers and sorcerers take off down the road while on horseback and turn the corner, dust filling the street.
Twelve of the guards instruct their horses trot around Baldwyn, surrounding him. They lower their lances so that the tips are mere feet away from him. One of the men speaks. Do not resist, otherwise we will subdue you.
Initiative:
1st: Cavaliers (#1-24; #25-36); Sorcerers (#1-5)
2nd: Baldwyn; Maaarv
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Obyrn grunts momentarily before putting on his silver tongue. "Of course, fine gentlemen. I am sure this is some misunderstanding, as we were attacked while attending a wedding and have been attempting to find the source all this while -- without troubling His Eminence with the small matter of our lives. Some friendly words can clear this, no? I will follow you to hear our accusers."
The rogue hands over his massive longspear, as well as his regular spear and javelins, but does not hand over his dagger (buried in a hidden fold of his garments) unless specifically asked about it.
Maaarv feels his body locked down by the magicks and can't turn his head, but he can hear the soldiers moving up behind him. Alright, I gi.... He feels three quick slams of metal against his head and he blacks out.
Baldwyn, Obyrn and Narvik give themselves up to the authorities as Maaarv makes a futile attempt to flee.
Obyrn and Narvik find themselves led to a room and see Baldwyn waiting with what appears to be a doctor standing over Maaarv's body.
This appears to be most opulent prison that any of these Pathfinders have ever seen. Their chambers are elegantly appointed, yet their solid iron doors lock from the outside. The doctor turns to the Pathfinders. Please do not cast any spells while in here. You will not like the outcome... which is usually death.
The man walks up to each of them and confiscates their weapons and obvious magic items, but they are otherwise treated with grave courtesy. They aren’t even searched.
As he is leaving, he turns and flicks his wrist in the direction of the unconscious alchemist. Maaarv awakes with a startle. Your trial will start in the morning. Please make yourselves comfortable until then.
The man leaves without answering Narvik's question.
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"Huh, I mean... what in Hades is going on here?" Maaarv rubs his forehead as he looks around.
"What could we be charged with?"
He stands up gingerly as he slowly gains his balance and bearings. "Well... we had the deal with the animals and those guys getting away. Then we found their hideout and one of our enemies got away again... Could we be arrested and punished for not keeping stuff from being stolen? Can that happen?"
The following morning, the Pathfinders are brought before the Satrap’s court. The Satrap’s court stands within a grand hall, one of the most opulent structures in the Inner Sea. Dozens of courtiers and soldiers line the magnificent hall, the Peerless advisors of the Satrap. In a small alcove off to one side, an executioner sharpens a massive axe, his face covered by a frowning golden mask.
A herald’s voice booms forth, “Pathfinders! You stand accused of murder, theft, and the looting of graves! Come forward and answer for these crimes!” A woman sits on a folding chair beside the herald, her features veiled.
The seated woman is introdcued as Samera the Insightful, another of the Satrap’s Peerless advisors. The Satrap rarely attends these hearings, so Samera will hear the accusations against the Pathfinders in his absence.
She speaks: “You stand accused of plotting the theft of ancient relics, and of the planned murder of Master Bashir al-Mudaris so that your masters among the Pathfinder Society might claim the resources of the House of Silver. What do you say to these accusations?”
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Obyrn is tired and gruff. "I say, get yourself a diviner to find the truth of the matter. The damned groom at that wedding was one of our own, and the Society stood to benefit greatly from its success. We would not even think of sullying the event with paltry murder and theft from men we do not even know. These colors simply do not run."
You would do well to remember your place in front of the Satrap's court! The woman chides Obyrn. If you do not offer a defense, then this court will sentence you to twenty years hard labor.