Aristide arranges for caltrops to quickly be crafted from odd bits of wood and bent, discarded nails. Bits of cast off meat, not fit for the settlers, is made available to distract the mob's animals.
Soraya offers to see if she can put together a couple smoke bombs before you venture off.
Mia points out yet more options , and the half orc grins toothily, "I can go invisible, Francois is sneaky, and Mia can turn into animals. We could support each other yes. " THoughtful, and a look to Ivan, "Maybe I should memorize invisibility twice? or do you wish to wait here in case attack begins?"
"I suppose the question is do we try to take out this Tattercloak first of straight for the head of the snake? I dont know him, but for some reason just the sound of his name makes me think i dont want him anywhere near Haven either."
He frowned already planning everything in his mind. Coal to darken the highlights of his face, some of miss Mia's potions in case things went bad.
The option with the least amount of death would likely be going straight for the head of the pack. If you beat the alpha, even most of those that do believe him will fall in line. If we can catch him alone all the better, if not, we will deal with this bodyguard alongside him... We could try the poison plan, and if that fails, we can attempt the more upfront approach?
"I would not be surprised if he had a food or drink taster. Innocent could get hurt."
When night approaches and the party is ready to set out, you slink through the tall grass of the Whistling Plains like a pride of lions on the hunt. Despite the extra supplies you have brought along on this dire mission, you move as quietly as possible, lest you bring the fury of the Galtan mob down upon you.
You spot the wan light of the sputtering fires they have managed to kindle from grasses, wild hay, and woody shrubs. Their ramshackle camp is about one hundred yards ahead.
Dargys cloaks himself in invisibility but even then wisely (He hopes) let's Francoix take lead.
He paused in the darkness and took a deep breath studying the camp. He was looking for patrols. Hopefully the fools on it were civilian mobs and not trained watchmen. If they were civilians, they would probably be dumb enough to look into the camp and probably campfires, and not out in the wilds where they should be paying attention.
If/when he spotted a patrol he watched it and took a count to see how long it took them to make a full round. He also kept his eyes out on what would be the most likely spot for their target to be at. He was surprised at how calm he was.
"Next time that patrol passes we move in, keep low until we get to the tents, then just try to avoid standing in direct light."
Francoix's assessment proves accurate. There are no patrols to be seen, and the clusters of expatriates that should ostensibly be keeping watch are far from vigilant. Not all of them look inward, towards the feeble warmth of their fires, but even those scanning the dark Casmar night have no hope of spotting the adept innkeeper as he creeps forward.
There is not a single animal to be seen among the camp. This includes a lack of hounds to worry about giving away your presence.
The slim, towering form of the Final Blade stands against the curtain of night. The naked blade of the fell artifact catches the glint of starlight, almost acting like a beacon at the center of the camp. Francoix judges that Borjan and the man in the tattered coat would likely be near the Final Blade.
Dargys nods, then mentally kicks himself, as he is invisible no one is going to see that. But he's a bit nervous about whispering so he just.. follows from a safe distance.
Really glad there are no dogs though
Mia will follow behind, She does a good job of going unnoticed, as she has spent most of her life as a timid wall flower.
Borjan's tent uses the wagon carrying the Final Blade to anchor its one side, with the other side being staked into the ground. Tattercoat stands atop the wagon, leaning against the frame of the Final Blade. It is hard to tell from here whether he is keeping watch or if he sleeps standing up.
The sounds of rutting can be heard creeping out from Borjan's tent, as the Bloody Baron apparently avails himself of one of his female followers.
"Mmmph. he's distracted, to say the least."
Francoix and the rest of the party spend a few minutes watching and waiting from the cover of the tall grass, waiting for silence and stillness to fall upon the baron's tent. When the time finally comes, Francoix creeps forth and slips into the tent.
There, cloaked in the darkness of the Casmar night, the innkeeper and pillar of the budding community quietly draws his rapier and, with a fateful downward thrust, puts an end to the tyranny and threat of the Bloody Baron.
In the morning, when Borjan doesn't rise, his followers investigate, and an uproar sweeps through the rabble. Anger, confusion, denial, and most of all fear takes hold among them. The Bloody Baron, the one who dragged them off the map and into the unknown, is dead. The vision sold to them, already nebulous, has been ripped away.
One furious voice finally rises above all the others.
"You! This was your doing! There will be no escape for you now!"
You see the hulking half-elf, the man whom Borjan and the rabble referred to only as Tattercoat, chasing after a little girl. The child clutches an old doll close to her as she struggles to escape through the camp. The other Galtan expats stand in a daze, processing the death of their leader and unsure whether to intervene. Meanwhile, Tattercoat simply shoves his way through the crowd to reach his prey.
The little girl trips, and she is hauled back to her feet roughly as Tattercoat grabs her arm. The brute drags her towards the Final Blade as the little girl feebly struggles against him, screaming for him to stop.
"Well, this has gone too far. Sorry my friends, was good knowing you but I cannot let a child die in that.. thing" Despite his words, he does not want to die. He strokes his rat, "Plague. Go put the fly spell on the girl"
To distract so Tattercoat might let go, the invisible wizard says "What kind of coward blames all sins on an innocent child?" His voice booms, "What kind of people let a bully trap souls without trial, without justice?"
At Dargys's outburst, Mia sighs in answer to his question as she shifts out of her animal form.
Welcome to Galt...
Mia wanted to just shy away from the eyes, but something just would not let her.
People of Galt, we are here from the very town you have been marching towards. We left you care packages for your march, as we had seen your precarious situation... We would welcome you into our little Haven, so long as you intend it or its residents no harm. You will find food, work, and shelter. However, that. She points to the Final Blade.
Is welcome only to be destroyed.
As she says this, she raises her hand, fingers outstretched, towards the Final Blade and utters one druidic word.
scrios.
Before clasping her fingers shut.
A loud gasp arises from the rabble as they watch the girl float into the sky, freed from Tattercoat's grasp. Their attention quickly turns towards the party, emerging from the tall grass to intervene in this travesty.
Tattercoat attempts to stir the rabble against the party - and the flying girl.
"That girl's doll is a dangerous threat to the spirit of Galt!" the tall, imposing half-elf insists, quite ironically. "It is responsible for the destruction of Hungry Maria, another of our precious Final Blades. It must be destroyed, and the girl punished for protecting that abomination!"
Despite Tattercoat's invective, the Galtan expats are more interested in the revelation that the care packages they'd been finding - a much needed succor after hundreds of miles of marching - were left by the party. The offer of sanctuary is just short of a promise of paradise for these long-suffering, misguided refugees.
Of course, a new wave of shock passes through them when Mia unleashes her spell upon the ghastly guillotine, the lingering symbol of Borjan's influence over them. The wood groans and shrieks as the magical blade attempts to resist the druid's magic. Finally, the frame explodes in a shower of splinters and shards. The Final Blade falls heavily and crashes through the wagon that once ferried it, creating another explosion of wood.
"How dare you! Enemies of the revolution must be purged!" Tattercoat howls, drawing his battleaxe and setting his sights upon the party.
"Get to safety, little one... but find a place to land if you feel the magic fading."[/B] He casts when he can
He moved quietly torwards the crowd, hopefully out of sight of the large crazed zealot. If he could time it right when he moved he could no doubt perhaps stop the fight before it started. . . but he also didnt want to see his friends get hurt. He was impressed by Mia's sudden voice. It was firmer than he remembered Hanging out with Kalig was good for her it seemed.
I'm enemy to needless violence and destruction. Mia says, in a much lower and softer voice.
I wonder if that was enough to help the souls who lost their lives to that thing... or if the blade itself must be destroyed..
He was torn, he didnt want this zealot monster of a man getting anywhere near his friends, but looking at the size of him and his battleaxe. He moved closely still trying to use the crowd as a sort of physical shield hiding him from sight but he readied himself to strike with his rapier when the man closed on himself or his friends.
Tattercoat senses Francoix's approach and turns aside to avoid the innkeeper's blade. He retaliates with a pair of wide swings with his axe.
Mia drinks a concoction as her form slowly shifts. As her hair seems to grow, covering more of her body and shortening as it does turning into a softer fur, stripes of black grow across the fur and where Mia stood now stands a full grown tiger.
Twist him closer to me! She shouts just as the transformation starts.
Seeing the tiger where Mia was, the pungent smell of his components may be senses (By a tiger's delicate nose anyway) , Darygs mutters a spell and places it on Mia.
He yelped... a very undignified pain filled yelp. That had hurt. A lot. He withdrew, doing his best to shield Mia as a tiger for as long as he could before he took two steps to the left and spun about, readying for his next go at the zealot.
If Tattercoat was a demagogue like the late Borjan, he might've tried to rile to Galtan expats against the party. However, the last of the Gray Gardeners proves to be little more than a thug and throws himself into direct battle to cut down the perceived "enemies of the revolution," dead though said revolution may be.
He strides forward but redirects his ire towards Mia, identifying the tiger as a greater threat than the innkeeper.
Mia lets our a roar as the axe bites into her. She then retaliates with a fury not seen from her before.
Mia the tigress tears into Tattercoat with tooth and claw, nearly ripping the Gray Gardener apart in mere moments. Pangs of fear can be seen in the half-elf's face as he realizes he has charged into a battle he cannot win.
He stood staring there for a moment as he watched Mia the tiger be struck by the axe and took two steps towards her. Then she roared and began to maul the man badly. In all the crazy things they had done so far this was easily the scariest thing he may have seen. He moved quickly shifting behind the man and trying to end his life quickly... to save Mia from what she was doing to a life and to well put the man out of his misery.
He stabbed in with his rapier.
"MIA! MIA! Don't lose yourself!"
He called out trying to catch the tiger's eyes his heart pounding rapidly. She didnt actually turn into a wild beast right? She was still in there somewhere?
"Fall you soul stealing monster.. FALL!" The wizard appears a few yards away as he takes his first offensive action.. words of power on his lips. it's a simple spell, but there's no chance of hitting an ally. And that's what matters
If Tattercoat wasn't dead when Francoix skewers him from behind with his rapier, he is when the concussive force of Dargys' spell practically blasts his body off of the innkeeper's blade. The last of the Gray Gardeners collapses like a sack of potatoes upon the Whistling Plains.
"That was...satisfying," Darygys admits, and looks about, "Hello everyone. Ah, we are the good guys... mostly... good enough guys?"
As the man goes limp in Mia's teeth, she swats the corpse aside with one of her paws. Prowling around to look at Francoix. She is panting heavily, both from the shock of what happened and adrenaline. For a brief moment there's a flash in her eyes, like that of an actual predator as she stares for several long moments while cleaning the blood on her mouth. Soon, her breathing is back to normal, and she prowls towards Francoix. In a sudden leap, she's next to him staring him in the face. Suddenly, his fear subsides as he feels the vibe of an animal tending to its pack from Mia. She looks down at and begins to lick the wound Francoix took from Tattercoat. Theres a warm sensation as healing washes into the wound.
After a few seconds, she sits on her haunches and glances back to the crowd of people.
It seemed she was still aware and mostly herself, though her personality certainly wasn't the same as usual. Who's to say if the natural instincts of the animal were effecting her, or how she would handle the events once back to her human form.
It took everything in his power to not just scream in fright and run when Mia the tiger leapt torwards him. The warmth and tickle of her tongue though faded that fear away. As the healing magic took effect and she sat on her haunches he couldnt help but smile at the girl. He colored slightly as he reached forward and lightly scritched behind her great ears.
"Alright folk, now that nasty business is done for, who wants to start a new life in a quiet place? Haven is just that a safe haven for any who want a fair shake at life. It won't be easy, we are still building but most importantly who you were or what you did doesnt matter, its who you are now and what you do from this point that we care about."
He paused as he looked for something to stand on, to elevate himself so everyone could see whom was talking.
"Im Francoix, this handsome half orc is a wizard named Dargys, the pretty tigress over there is called Mia, no worries she is a druid most of the time. If everyone could return to your tents, pack you things and get prepared to move, we will get on the road shortly. If you have any questions, feel free to come see me."
He hopped down and moved closer to Dargys,
"Care to search the bodies of that zealot and the tent and body of that Borjan while i keep the crowd...distracted from their troubles?"
"Im Francoix, this handsome half orc is a wizard named Dargys, the pretty tigress over there is called Mia, no worries she is a druid most of the time. If everyone could return to your tents, pack you things and get prepared to move, we will get on the road shortly. If you have any questions, feel free to come see me."
He hopped down and moved closer to Dargys,
"Care to search the bodies of that zealot and the tent and body of that Borjan while i keep the crowd...distracted from their troubles?"
"For the man who calls me handsome? How could I not try eh?" He chuckles and nods.
And slips to search the body of each, with Plague's help, detecting magic liberally.
Dargys discovers that Tattercoat possessed a trio of enchanted items, among them the armor hidden beneath his ratty clothes, the heavy hide cloak once draped over his broad shoulders, and the battleaxe he wielded against you only moments ago.
The Galtan expatriates stare at you nervously, as though all of you were tigers having emerged from the tall grass.
The spell fades upon the little girl, and she drifts back down to the ground. She stands apart from both the party and the Galtans, possessively clutching her doll for comfort. Though she tries to avoid it, her eyes drift towards Tattercoat's body.
He fills his companions in on what the treasures are
"Hello little one, welcome back to land. You should be safe now. My name is Dargys, and yes, I am a half orc, or half human depending at how you look about it." He's not sure if he is the one to greet folks, but he hopes to reassure the child that all is well.
Then again, the child is taking it better than some others, "We are of haven. And we are not your enemy, but we have no patience .." He eyes the fallen foe, then looks back "For those that would trap souls, hastily judging all who think differently as 'guilty'. My name is Dargys Hungerflame. This is Mia Ravenlock, and Francoix Delacouis. Now, is there anyone of you that wishes to speak up for yourselves or your fellows?"
When introduce, Mia gives a low growl, almost a purr. She spends a bit to make sure she is clean of any blood as the others talk.
As the people show hesitation, almost fear, Mia will softly pad over to the little girl. Once beside her, she will lay down and gently nuzzle the girl before looking back to the people.
At first, the child is understandably frightened by the tiger's advance. However, when the creature behaves more like a kitten than a predator, she is soon at ease. Up close, Mia can see hints of elven heritage in the child's features.
She introduces herself to the Mia tiger as "Pitch."
As for the crowd of Galtan expats, they hem and haw, standing or sitting quite forlorn and at a loss for words. One of them finally speaks up.
"Are you going to kill us? May as well get it over with."
At first, the child is understandably frightened by the tiger's advance. However, when the creature behaves more like a kitten than a predator, she is soon at ease. Up close, Mia can see hints of elven heritage in the child's features.
She introduces herself to the Mia tiger as "Pitch."
As for the crowd of Galtan expats, they hem and haw, standing or sitting quite forlorn and at a loss for words. One of them finally speaks up.
"Are you going to kill us? May as well get it over with."
"Kill you? No. Your former leader and the ugly one.." He jerks a thumb to Tattercloak's corpse "They seem to be having done that fine. Let me guess, all dissenters are traitors? Those not following their vision faced thhat thing" He points to the remnannts of the final blade "All of you afraid. Well, is scary world, who blames you? But 'leaders' like that, who needs? To be frank, we thought we were rescuing you but you may not be seeing it that way. We have small place, building up. Myself I am hoping one day for proper wizard tower," He gives a happy rumble "Yes, this is the Dream. But not point. Point is possible some of you, ones who do not sneer your nose at those who are different, such as myself, might join us at Haven. Is not easy life, but is better than having your soul threatened with eternal confinement"
A look to his companions "If I am getting things wrong, let me know, hokay?"
Mia spends a little time helping the girl clamber up onto her back before turning to Dargys and giving a shake of her head when he asked if he had gotten anything wrong.
She will also look for any other children, to see if they were curious about a large, friendly(?), cat.
The few children among the Galtans (you hope because few were brought along, rather than few surviving the harrowing trek) are kept back and away from the tiger by their older family members.
By right, Dargys' appeal shouldn't work. The Galtans have been so indoctrinated by Borjan's fiery rhetoric - teaching them who to hate, who to blame, what lies to believe, and what truths to reject - that no eloquent words, no reasoned arguments, and no steadfast facts could sway them. Had this confrontation come weeks or even mere days ago, there may have still been holdouts among the mob who would have met the party with boos, jeers, and thrown stones.
Pain has a unique capability for stripping away such blind belief, though.
Endless days marching across the trackless grass seas of the Whistling Plains have subjected these misled souls to hunger, thirst, illness, biting insects, and innumerable other miseries. They have experienced, firsthand, the price of following a false prophet. You have no idea how many bodies, young and old, they had to leave behind on their journey, left to feed the soil and scavengers. Their loyalty to Borjan exacted a price paid in beloved lives.
Their spirits have been worn down as surely as a millstone grinds barley. There is no bloodlust left, no vitriol or anarchic hedonism.
They merely wait like the condemned, waiting to hear what sentence might be passed down upon them.
With a sigh he frowned and shook his head at the lifeless mass of folk in front of him. It was depressing.
"All right here, if not for Borjan, or this evil bastard who is in charge here? Who is the elder?"
He called out to the people....
"Okay then... You yes you!, take ten adults and begin to take down what ever tents you folk have. You miss find out what foodstuffs you have. M'am yes you in the gray with the hair that matches, find and gather your wounded."
He began ordering the folk into movement. As lifeless as they seemed perhaps they just needed a nudge.