I've heard of some in the enclave being able to channel the fey but that was impressive!
Elandil sheaths his sword and comes out of hiding.
Tom's reluctant companion looks shocked at the sudden appearance of the full battle party, while Tom himself is simply living the dream alongside Shaldinari, eagerly hanging on every word she says. At the mention of passwords he puffs up his chest proudly "Oh we don't bother with that, everyone knows ol' Tom...talk of the town, I am."
You start the journey across the city to the southern gatehouse as dawn comes to the ruins of Mulmaster...oranges and reds of the morning sky are oddly reflected at unnatural angles off the billowing chaos. You pass between 2 large stone buildings that seem to have a permanent electrical current arcing between them high above, flirting with the clouds.
The guards' route is one of checkpoints previously secured, as Tom explains, in an attempt to secure the most important resources not obliterated. Obviously these temporary positions are still being tested, and more than once you find the men who were supposed to be stationed are instead slaughtered.
Furgis tugs at Cole out of earshot from the others, motioning covertly to Tom's companion "That one knows us...he's going to try something with or without his mate...better a dagger to the back now, eh?" and he offers you a blackened steel dagger.
Cole whispers through gritted teeth.
When he does, I will handle him, and not with that little toy. Bigger off and shut yer trap so we can get you out and our money, dwarf.
Cole stays in close proximity to the one Furgis pointed out, ready to attack with both weapons quickly should he try anything fishy.
Bhoors looks at Davin, "This was your first warning?" He begins to mumble something about a turtle woman. Bhoors notes Furgis and Cole drop back. Instinctively he moves to where he can move between ole Tom and his more with his wits partner.
Davin attempts to stifle a sudden outburst of laughter.
"HAHA...oops..sorry! I had forgotten about that!"
He claps Bhoors on the shoulder while still chuckling to himself.
While staying close to Tom and continuing to chat and be friendly, Shaldinari's eyes carefully scan the path for any sign of ambush or danger from cultists, or Tom's partner.
You walk down the somewhat guarded path for a bit more than an hour, and luckily evade any further hostiles. Finally you reach the last check point, a smoke charred wall with a single iron door. Above on one of the crenelations flies the flag of the Alliance. "See now? Ol' Tommy boy got'chye here just fine!" he puckers up for a kiss and when he realizes its not coming awkwardly blushes and raps on the door.
"Who goes there?" comes a burly voice from above.
Seeing Tom's blush Shaldinari gives the man a quick smile, kisses her fingers and touches them to his cheek. "Thank you so much for your help and guidance Tom." She says. "You are a fine gentleman, and I hope you continue to choose the path of good and honor while serving and rebuilding this poor city."
She slips a few coins from the pouch hidden beneath her robe. "I believe I promised a little coin for your service as well. She says, slipping four gold coins into the old guard's hand. "So the debt is fairly paid. Good luck and may the Lady guide you safely during these hard times."
Taking a step back as the two guards leave, she gestures toward the door and offers a slight bow of her head to Davin and Abrel. "Gentleman, I believe we need to see a man about a book?"
Cole simply nods, keeping his eye on the one identified by the dwarf, as they move ahead.
"You're entering an Alliance controlled area. Keep your weapons sheathed and identify yourselves!" the voice above the iron door again shouts.
Davin moves forward and calls out to the sentry.
"I am Davin Grey, recently from Chult, but now working as guard to the dwarf Furgis. My group would like to meet with Greybeard. Please open up and let us in...I will swear for all in this group."
Abrel Deadrose, Cloak, the young knight holds up his hand, revealing the Lords' Alliance signet ring on his hand.
There's silence a moment "...Chult you say? Long way travelled, Cloaks. That's Klevin's station if I'm not mistaken. Ye mean Whitebeard, he's Warduke of this operation." A smaller window on the iron door opens and a shadowy eyeball pokes out to get a peek at the ring, after which there is a clatter and rattle of locks and the sound of a portcullis raising. "Well, come in then...not safe out there."
You are led into a secure area consisting of the space between two high walls running out of sight in both directions. Spattered along the way are a few taller watchtowers at equal intervals, some fallen and being actively repaired. The majority of the activity here seems to be the organization of the flow of supplies from the south. Crates are being popped open to reveal fresh iron forged tools and other various miscellany related to rebuilding.
You find Whitebeard surrounded by men, barking orders in a loud Northern accent and dressed quite extravagantly...in fact he is the most flamboyantly dressed dwarf you've ever seen. An old mule has just brought down a load, and after unloading it they quickly slaughter the beast for the desperately needed meat. He spies the party coming down the way "...what's this then, who're you lot?"
Cloak Abrel Deadrose, sir, the knight introduces himself and gestures at Boltsmelter, My companions and I are escorting Boltsmelter to safety.
Looking around at the organized chaos, he continues, Is there somewhere that we can go to have rest?
Throughout the ordeal Elandil tries to make himself small and unremarkable. All this construction is putting him on edge and he's fighting the urge to slink off into the shadows.
His oiled black mustache twitches, and with extreme discontent he spits out "...Boltsmelter." seeking Furgis with his eyes, somehow not noticing him before "And you say you're heading to safety...looking for rest? I nay know where that might be, not here, fer sure! We've just lost the southern gatehouse to the Earth Cult, and the Waves are already coverin' the three wards...right up to the towers." pointing to the huge 3 towers scattered about the city. "Not to mention the undead and outsiders..."
"But I can see yer in a tight spot here, I want to help you cloaks out. I know a halfling, name 'o Radomir. Slipperiest smuggler in Mulmaster...nay, on the Moonsea. You'll find him to the east, in the old nobles ward...slipped between the cracks like a coin fallen from a pocket...if he can't getcha out I know hes got safe quarter for ye. And he owes me." he pulls a broken arrowhead off a necklace around his neck. "Throw him this, he'll remember. Seek him out near the fallen temple of Bane...look for the stars of Mystra, her holy symbol I mean, drawn incorrectly...thats Radomir's mark."
And he draws in very close to Abrel, pulling him down and speaking almost inaudibly...
Cole thinks hard while staring at the dwarf.
If we get ya out, you owe us big, dwarf.
Perception:
Davin is too involved in what Whitebeard is saying and wondering what he is telling Abrel.
Shrugging his shoulders he simply goes back to checking his weapons for any flaws before they leave.
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Even over the din of the workers, Shaldinari picks up a bit of the whispered message the old dwarf shares with Abrel. Her eyes narrow slightly when she hears those last few words about their employer. Turning a purple tinted gaze on Furgis she smiles and slowly begins to tap a finger against her chin in thought. With each tap of her finger she visualizes a new way for the dwarf to suffer...
Tap...Furgis tied to a spit, slowly roasting over an open fire. Many childlike fae dancing around the fire poking him with sticks shouting "Is he done yet? Is he done yet?"....tap...Furgis shrinking down to just a few inches tall. Shaldinari's hand picking him up and securing him to a large fishing hook. Then with a flick or her wrist and the whir of fishing line, he sails toward the waiting maw of a large fish.....tap....Furgis, his pockets empty, clothes in rags, boots worn through. All his worldly wealth gone. Stolen or lost in various ventures, his luck cursed and always bad and never able to escape the soft fae laughter of a certain female elf. He is nothing but a lone destitute vagrant barely surviving on the streets of a shattered and broken city, one he never was able to escape.....tap...
Abrel nods and looks at Boltsmelter, Well then, let us go. We may be able to get you out after all.
Shall we go?
As the group walks off, Abrel can be heard asking, Does anyone know what Mystra's symbol looks like?
Mystra's symbol is/was a white and blue 7 pointed star. Mystra was supposedly killed by Cyric 100 years ago but there are rumors of Mystra's return...
Mulmaster has always had Bane as its patron deity, and the fact that Bane and Mystra were rivals might explain the underground counterculture's choice of a secret symbol.
With that, Whitebeard directs you to the east of their narrow where a series of head-high trenches wind back into the no-man's land of Mulmaster. He spares a man to walk you halfway, and you are pointed down a path that supposedly leads to whats left of the noble wards...once lavish mansions and the richest temples set their roots there. Now it resembles something more like an old forest, with more of the structural material holding together higher up than lower down, just like trees...their smokey dark basements perhaps concealing the last of the highborn's riches.
Elandil's keen elven eyes are again the first to notice, through the midmorning haze, the gate into the district. It seems to be still quite fortified, and he spies a single humanoid standing on an overlooking platform of sorts. He is wearing neither the garb of the Crushing Wave, nor the city guard uniform...he doesn't seem to notice you yet.
Somehow, you'll need to pass that gate to continue your escape.
You know, if I remember my readings correctly, I think it's supposed to be a seven-pointed star. It is an odd choice, but perhaps it is because of Bane's influence in the history of this city... Abrel's ramblings belie an innocence that he has, until now, managed to keep hidden, Did you know that Bane and Mystra were enemies in the times of old?
"Whatever her symbol is, perhaps you don't go flinging around talk about Mystra... with Bane as the patron deity of the city, her worship is probably frowned upon by most and we don't need to draw extra attention. Then again, right now there isn't many people to hear us. "
"Do you all see the person up by the gate? He doesn't look like one of the guards."
Elandil peers around looking for hidden routes to get closerto the gate.
Abrel looks from their hiding spot, What is that? Could it be one of those black earth fellows that someone mentioned earlier? Are we sneaking by? It will be quite a run...
Abrel will watch to see a pattern in the sentry's routine. Figuring on how much time they have to move from place to place (maybe giving advantage to the stealth checks?)
The little gate is well designed to give a good vantage of the sloping path leading up to it. However, the destruction has created a ridge of stone on opposite sides that betrays the old design, nearly the height of river cliffs. This time of day, the rubble cliff on the right is casting a dark shadow rolling right up to the guard post which might offer obscurement. The gate is closed, and likely barred from the other side.
Let's sneak closer.
Cole goes into a crouch as he proceeds to a better vantage point to assess their final obstacle to escape.
Keeping his bow at the ready, Davin moves forward trying to remain as stealthy as he can.
Stealth:
Perception:
As the group walks off, Abrel can be heard asking, "Does anyone know what Mystra's symbol looks like?"
"Mystra, goddess of mysteries or some such nonsense right? Isn't it a big question mark against a green background. I'm pretty sure that's what it is." She says with a shrug of her shoulders. "But then I've never really paid much attention to the gods with all their petty bickering and machinations."
Moving closer to the gate, Shaldinari follows the lead of the others and stays quiet and low. Carefully creeping in the shadow of the ridge, she looks for any other guards or possible traps.
Elandil seems at home lurking through the shadows.
The party slinks towards the gate in the shadows of the destruction...intermittent booms echo in the distance from a myriad of fights. A gentle breeze stirs the midmorning air.
Elandil keeps his keen eyes scanning for threats.
The humanoid figure is standing so still it could be a statue for all you know. It's wearing what looks like plate armor, but it is obviously made of stone.
I think after a few minutes, if no patrol comes by, we should act. Every minute we tarry is more and more dangerous, Abrel looks back the way they came and back up to the guard.
Does anyone have a grapple hook?
"Agreed, just sitting here waiting for...something to stumble across us probably isn't a good idea." Shaldinari says. Squinting at the guard her brow furrows slightly. "Is that guard even real? Odd that anyone could stand that still under this sun and not ever move. Especially with all the chaos churning the area."
Shaking her head at Abrel she adds quickly while rustling through her pack. "No grappling hook. Just some rope and pitons."
Abrel nods, Well, the best climber should go up with the rope and then secure so that everyone else can get up and over, possibly faster that they would otherwise.
I'll go.
Cole ties one end of the rope around his belt, and he starts up the wall, searching for handholds.
Cole quickly and with little sound parkours up and over the wall...he gasps slightly as he notices 3 more of the statue-like guard just inside the gate.
Cole move quickly and quietly to the sun locking tent and anchors the rope as he tugs on the end to let the others know he is ready.
The lone guard standing up on the rise shouts "Southwest corner!" and raises a crossbow at Cole...
As Cole flips over the wall, rope still on his waist, a flintstone bolt streaks past his cheek, missing by just a hair.
Round 1:
Enemy
All PCs <--UP
Not trusting himself to be able to follow Cole over the wall, El opts to try to slow down one of the guards. Weaving together some elemental magic, he points at the guard on the tower as frost begins to form.