Sword in hand, Raven looks around for any potential foes. 'It would not do to start looking for the door and lock only to have someone strike me from behind,' the elf thinks to himself.
End of Round 5:
Marius gives Waifrin his potion.
Akorian smacks his already shaky foe, who falls to his knees, then on to his side on the ground.
With the mounted armigers gone Raven has a clear path to the door of the coach. At first blush the lock on the door looks sturdy and dependable like the coach itself. With a little patience, a modicum of skill, and the proper application of leverage, the elf anticipates no trouble opening the lock. But as he begins probing the lock with his first pick. He feels it twist slightly. Someone has jammed the bolt from the other side.
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Waifrin gratefully downs Marius' potion.
Healing:
"Thanks," she says, "for saving my skin there." She looks at the top of the coach. "You know that dirty great crossbow could seriously spoil a Hellknight's day," she jerks her head in the direction of the fight on the bridge.
Then goes to assist Raven opening the door of the coach.
"What's keeping you?"
"It would seem that someone jammed it from the other side," the rogue replies calmly. Turning to Waifrin, he shrugs. "Any ideas?"
Mother knocks on the door. "Hallo in there! We're here to bust you loose, but the door is stuck. Can you help us, or give us any ideas?"
As his foe goes down, Akorian looks around and sees the rest of the battle is mostly over. He puts away his morningstar and then kneels next to each of the fallen armigers.
"Milani throws down the tyrant, but brings hope to the defeated," he murmurs.
When he finishes, the priest frowns with growing concern that Arael hasn't been freed yet. He goes to join Raven, Waifrin, and Mother at the wagon's door, looking up to see Marius mounting the rooftop.
"Keep an eye out for their return," he urges the big fighter. Then, he addresses Raven with a mirthful smirk. "What seems to be the problem? I thought you said you could handle this? Anyone got an axe? Or do we need to smoke them out?"
Mother moves in for another grapple against the driver. She bowls him over backwards. His head strikes the pedestal for the heavy crossbow and he slumps, unconscious.
Mother slides off the roof via a wheel and the running boards.
The reverberation from Mother's heavy knock on the door has barely faded when a deep voice answers. "Much as I dread my reception at Citadel Rivad, I fear I must decline your offer of freedom."
The other combat:
The four mounted hellknights hook up with their two remaining allies. The two crossbow armed mounted armigers reload and watch Janiven pick her way through the caltrops. The other two catch up the limping, caltrop injured horses and hold them while working on their bridles or bits. The two thrown armigers complete their retreat to the horses and prepare to mount.
Perception (visual) DC 15 or Intelligence DC 16:
Janiven just reaches the edge of the caltrop field. She begins shouting for you to stop the armigers.
The crossbow is very heavy and swivel mounted on a pedestal from the roof. A large lever works a second lever to cock the bow. The pedestal doubles as magazine. It holds a score or so of bolts.
"Much as I dread my reception at Citadel Rivad, I fear I must decline your offer of freedom."
"That doesn't sound like Arael to me," Akorian confides in those standing outside the door, "Or...if it is...he may be under duress to make that claim."
Janiven just reaches the edge of the caltrop field. She begins shouting for you to stop the armigers.
The priest pauses for a moment and leans back to look in the direction of the other armigers and Janiven's crew. "What's she carrying on ab—? Uh-oh. Hey?!" he calls up to Marius on the rooftop, "Looks like we might have company sooner than we thought. Fire that thing in their direction and see if it gets their attention."
"Z?" He looks around for Zarabeta, but makes sure not to use her full name, "You got a spell that can lay those guys low like last time? You might want to use it."
Then, he nudges Raven. "C'mon, let's get this can open. And may the Everbloom guide your hand."
"Guys, Janiven still has problems, we have to do something now!" Waifrin warns. "If anyone's got another potion I could use it, too," she adds as she goes to round up the horses. "Mother, can you drive the coach? We can use it to take the fight to them!"
Akorian winces as Waifrin uses Janiven and Mother's names.
"She'll stick to the plan," he calls back, "Worry less about her and more about what those armigers will do once they ride back to us. We need to be ready. The faster we get this door open, the faster we get out of here. And driving this slow 'hell'-wagon ain't in the plan..."
"I do not think picking this lock is an option anymore," Raven replies to the cleric. "Whoever is in there is jamming the bolt. I could give it another try but I hardly think it will amount to much."
Testing the sturdiness of the door by leaning into it forcefully, the elf continues. "We might be better served if we tried to break it down instead, though we could use an axe for that. Or if Waifrin can destroy that part of the door with the lock perhaps?"
"Damn it!" Akorian curses, "Stand back."
He draws his masterwork morningstar again. "Let's see what happens when superior steel meets a reinforced door and iron cage."
The priest points out potential weak spots on the door. "Pull there...and there...I'll see if I can break this thing free."
"C'mon...give us a ray of hope here!" Akorian prays between gritted teeth as he brings the morningstar crashing down on the wagon's door and lock mechanism. He puts every ounce of rage and anger against his nation's government that he can into the blow.
The elven rogue attempts to help Akorian, doing his best to follow the cleric's instructions.
As Akorian begins casting, the voice speaks up again. "Gentlemen, and ladies. I think there has been a misunderstanding. You might prefer to speak to my companion here. Unfortunately, he can't talk right now. I beg of you, do not do anything precipitous that might adversely affect his health until we understand each other better."
"Okay, fella. Now take it easy and let us know what you want. We're listening."
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Listening to the voice, Waifrin realises that this must be a Hellknight ... and that he has no intention of letting them succeed, if he can help it, so that a delay will cost us all.
"He's playing for time while the others regroup," Waifrin whispers, "Raven, I can do as you say, I can shatter the bolt, I know it. Just tell me where I have to hit it, and he won't be a problem any more."
She gestures for Mother Vangelis to keep talking.
Akorian nods as he hears Waifrin explain her idea to Raven. To buy her the necessary time, he follows Mother's example and strives to keep the man inside talking as well.
"Fella...I don't know you. And I don't care to know you," he begins, "But you're not in as nearly a good position as you seem to think you are. The whole reason you're escorting your 'friend' in there to Citadel Rivad is so you can interrogate him about people like us. So, he's just as good to us dead or alive. If he's dead, there won't be any information for you. And if we take him out of here alive, we accomplish the same thing."
"Now we'd rather have him alive," the priest continues, "And if you turn him over that way, you get to walk out of here alive, too. But if you should harm or kill him, we will crack this wagon open. And we will be sending you for Pharasma's judgement just as quickly. Then, we'll be taking Arael's body with us anyway."
"Now it's your choice. Your men are a lost cause out here. They're all down. But we've kept every single one of them alive. And we'll do the same for you as long as you let Arael go. But if you want to make us do this the hard way. I promise you it'll come down hardest on you."
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Somewhat at a loss what to do in the confusion, Zarabeta uses a move action to produce her potion and hand it to Waifrin.
With her standard action, she looks for any target within 30 ft. to afflict with a daze cantrip. "Atonitus!"
This should be the last round of the hounds existence, and it will probably not have time to reach any target other than the one it is already worrying, so it will make one last attempt to yank that fool from his horse.
attack
confirm crit
damage
trip
The golden saluqi continues to worry at the hellknight's leg. When the rider stops his horse the dog let's go, gathers itself, leaps up and bites again. This time the man shreiks and falls from his horse to lie very still upon the turf.
*** At the bridge ***
The remaining hellknights mount up and spur away, leaving their newly fallen comrade behind. One of a volley of bolts from the other rebels strikes one of the riders in the back. Another is struck in the thigh. The rebels cheer as the horseman make for the cover of the trees.
*** The coach ***
"Okay, fella. Now take it easy and let us know what you want. We're listening."
"What does any of us want? A life with purpose. Duty fulfilled. The satisfaction of excellence in all one does. But forgive me. This ride has put me in a philosophical mood. Your Arael is a most expressive and patient listener. I may have abused my position as his host."
"And I don't think that's the point of your question."
"Fella...I don't know you. ... But if you want to make us do this the hard way. I promise you it'll come down hardest on you."
"I doubt you can be any harder on me than my good Paralictor will be." A small bitter chuckle. " So, if you are in a mood to bargain please step away from the carriage and show me my men."
Marius lines up the siege bow on a horse and lets fly as the last off the horsemen ride for the woods.
Damage=???
Then he looks to see if there is a hatch in the roof..if not he will slide off the roof and prepare to yank the door open if needed
strength check when needed
Akorian nods to the others. Stepping back, he catches Marius' eye and motions for him to stay on the rooftop positioned over the door so he can leap down on the man, if necessary.
"Alright, let's bargain..." Akorian replies, "As I said, your men are safe. Show us Arael's in the same condition."
Marius' long range shot hits his target. Who remains in the saddle and rides off after his companions.
***
"Usually, we try the friend and enemy routine with two Hellknights. It seems you are more versatile an actor." The Hellknight in the coach chuckles. "Or perhaps you are a hostile friend and your comrade on the roof will be the enemy. I am not deaf every step he makes sound like a millstone grinding."
"If we are to bargain we must do this slowly. Build a rapport, yes? Show me my men and then I will let one of your number look inside the eyeslits without stabbing his eyes. But know this. Should there be any treachery, especially should I feel the touch of magic, Arael will die."
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Waifrin quaffs Zara's potion.
Healing: Edit: Healing potions don't like me.
"While any delay endangers us, and Areal - you don't make a good case for yourself, friend, but if you want to see your men, those to the left of the wagon all live - in spite of your leader's attempts otherwise."
Waifrin pauses, and realises who we are speaking to.
"But you already know us - we spared your life and those of your men in the tunnels beneath the city, and we swear to do the same here and now also if you let us open this door swiftly."
Letting Akorian do most of the talking, Raven silently points to where he believes Waifrin's blast would do the most damage to the bolt and locking mechanism.
"Not just yet. Just in case you need to," he points out, his lips forming the words slowly, but without any actual sound coming from his mouth.
"Usually, we try the friend and enemy routine with two Hellknights. It seems you are more versatile an actor." The Hellknight in the coach chuckles. "Or perhaps you are a hostile friend and your comrade on the roof will be the enemy. I am not deaf every step he makes sound like a millstone grinding."
At the man's words, Akorian's patience grows very thin.
"If we are to bargain we must do this slowly. Build a rapport, yes? Show me my men and then I will let one of your number look inside the eyeslits without stabbing his eyes. But know this. Should there be any treachery, especially should I feel the touch of magic, Arael will die."
"No. If we are to bargain, you must pick up the pace," Akorian replies, "Your transparent attempts to delay for more time until your men can regroup or summon aid from Westcrown or Citadel Rivad will do nothing more than cost you your life."
"If you care to assess the condition of your men, open the door and look as we back away," the priest suggests, "Otherwise, we'll be forced to take a much different course in this negotiation. Your time is running out. Choose now, before there is no choice."
"Well, if he wants to see one of his men, let's show him one of his men. Can't hurt, can it?"
"But you already know us - we spared your life and those of your men in the tunnels beneath the city, and we swear to do the same here and now also if you let us open this door swiftly."
"Yes, it is I, Gessepe Giobanni. Forgive me. I did not recognize you all without the white-haired goddess. How odd that we should meet again so soon. A pleasure to be sure."
"No. If we are to bargain, you must pick up the pace," Akorian replies, "Your transparent attempts to delay for more time until your men can regroup or summon aid from Westcrown or Citadel Rivad will do nothing more than cost you your life.""If you care to assess the condition of your men, open the door and look as we back away," the priest suggests, "Otherwise, we'll be forced to take a much different course in this negotiation. Your time is running out. Choose now, before there is no choice."
"My friend, I am sorry that I have annoyed you. I freely confess that I am stalling, but it will be hours before help arrives for me. So perhaps you will indulge me."
"Sirs, Madames, we are at an impasse, yes? You have cost me my name and good standing in the most righteous Order of the Rack. I, on the other hand am in a position to deny you your comrade insurgent. One who, if I am to judge from your turnout, is either very popular or very important."
There is a long pause and a theatrically long and drawn out breath before he resumes. "Are you sporting folk at all?"
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Waifrin flushes slightly at the mention of the 'white-haired goddess', but it calms her enough that she replies with word and not a balst of energy.
"We've cost you that? Ah yes - our foul rebellious attitude of wanting to live our lives without fear, our unrighteous objections to booted feet trampling our kin - oh no, my friend, we have cost you nothing - and far less than was taken from us," Waifrins reply is - not surprisingly - passionate.
"You are in there because your masters care nothing for the lives of you and your men. It would better have suited them that you died than returned alive and beaten, and you know it. So tell me, when you swore your fealty to them, what did they swear in return to you? And tell me - from in there, does it look like they are keeping their side of the bargain? Or are you beginning to appreciate why we have had our fill of the 'justice' meted out by the priests of a fiend?"
"Sirs, Madames, we are at an impasse, yes? You have cost me my name and good standing in the most righteous Order of the Rack. I, on the other hand am in a position to deny you your comrade insurgent. One who, if I am to judge from your turnout, is either very popular or very important."
"We have indeed reached an impasse if you and Arael are to live," Akorian agrees, "It is my preference that you both walk away from this incident unscathed."
There is a long pause and a theatrically long and drawn out breath before he resumes. "Are you sporting folk at all?"
"Sporting enough to at least hear what you have in mind."
"You are in there because your masters care nothing for the lives of you and your men. .... Or are you beginning to appreciate why we have had our fill of the 'justice' meted out by the priests of a fiend?"
"Dear lady, I am in here because I failed egregiously in my duty to round you all up. The price of failure is often high, but I fully appreciate the merits of justice."
"We have indeed reached an impasse if you and Arael are to live," Akorian agrees, "It is my preference that you both walk away from this incident unscathed."
"That would be my preference also."
"Sporting enough to at least hear what you have in mind."
"Trial by combat. A fair fight between your champion and myself. If your champion triumphs, I relinquish Arael. If I am the victor, you all become my prisoners. In all fairness, I must warn you, I was taken quite by surprise last time. I fully expect to win this time."
Janiven trots up. "What's going on here? Why haven't you gotten Arael out?"
Back at the bridge the other rebels are collecting the caltrops, securing the two loose ex-hellknight horses and turning the wagon around.
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"Because there's the leader of the Hellknights we bested in the tunnels captive in there with him - and he's prepared to kill your friend if we try and burst in," Waifrin tells her in a low tone.
"He's wants trial by combat - we fail, we're all his prisoners, we succeed and we get Areal."
Waifrin herself has no intention of agreeing to the deal, but asks the others: "Who fights?"
"I'd be willing to take him on, in hand-to-hand combat leastways," Mother cheerfully volunteers. "First, I might need to use some of this magic medicine we picked up from his buddies; I got kind of scorched back there!"
"What are your rules?"
"Trial by combat. A fair fight between your champion and myself. If your champion triumphs, I relinquish Arael. If I am the victor, you all become my prisoners. In all fairness, I must warn you, I was taken quite by surprise last time. I fully expect to win this time."
Akorian laughs.
"What a fine trade that would be," he scoffs, "If we win, we get one of our friends back. And if we lose, we have to all come along quietly. Yeah, right. That sounds exactly like the kind of deal a devil would offer."
"How about this..." he counters, "We conduct such a duel. If we win, you spare one life...that of Arael...and we send you on your way. If we lose, we return your sword and the dignity of your men...while sparing all their lives...including your own. My way, everyone lives regardless of the outcome. And no matter what punishments your Paralictor might summon, at least you'll face it while still drawing breath. In addition, I would assume you'd like your blade back. I'm quite familiar with its inherent value. A family heirloom, I suspect?"
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Zarabeta whispers back, 'I can't see him, no magic can reach him, barring setting the carriage aflame.'
Zarabeta turns and walks back to where she left her horse in the trees, as she still has yet to mount the thing. Her part in this battle appears done, as she certainly won't be selected as champion for single battle.
"
What a fine trade that would be," he scoffs, "If we win, we get one of our friends back. And if we lose, we have to all come along quietly. Yeah, right. That sounds exactly like the kind of deal a devil would offer."
"How about this..." he counters, "We conduct such a duel. If we win, you spare one life...that of Arael...and we send you on your way. If we lose, we return your sword and the dignity of your men...while sparing all their lives...including your own. My way, everyone lives regardless of the outcome. And no matter what punishments your Paralictor might summon, at least you'll face it while still drawing breath. In addition, I would assume you'd like your blade back. I'm quite familiar with its inherent value. A family heirloom, I suspect?"
"Hmmm, put that way, I admit the odds I offered don't square with the risk or the prize. But your offer doesn't either. "
"After our fight in the sewers you may think me a coward who would be satisfied with escaping with merely his own life. But there defeat seemed inevitable and I sought to save the lives of my men at the cost of my own disgrace. "
"Here I hold the trump card. I must play to win. Even at the risk of my own death and those of my men. To do anything less would be to live twice disgraced."
"As for the sword, do you believe you can bribe me with that? That blade is indeed dear to me, but were it the great blade of Egorian, it would be less dear than my honor. "
"Three to one then. And, with your grace, I fight with that blade in my hand."
Janiven shouts out, "Wait! Do not answer him until we all talk."
"I say we try the duel. Heck, I bet I could lick him myself," Mother states overconfidently.
"Screw his honor," Akorian interjects with a whisper as they confer with Janiven, "I say we agree to his duel, lure him out of the coach. Then, Zarabeta here can do her magic...or maybe Waifrin just as we're about to fight him. The rest of us...especially Mother and Marius...mob him and pin him. Meanwhile, Raven gets Arael out of here. I can even summon up a bit of mist to obscure our activities so his men can't see what's going on. And then we ride out and leave this mess behind."