Council of Thieves

Game Master Mug

Enko regards Mathalen for a moment, then, with an almost invisible nod, says, "I do not know. I sit, you sit, it could be the gaining of merit and the mastering of Discipline. Then again, frogs have mastered quiet sitting. Perhaps frogs are the ultimate masters." At this he smiles, eyes twinkling.

At the frog comment the wiry Mathalen looks at you suspiciously, seeing if you're teasing her as so many others have, but seeing nothing hurtful in your gaze, "Well, perhaps you can show me some of your Discipline sometime, if it's not too much trouble." She relaxes her posture a little bit, considering you, "So what brings you here anyways? We all know there was a chase in the sewers, but you don't look like the typical Wescrani. Why help us?"

Jaiyana's hand rises to brush against her freshly bound bruises before she is even aware she made the motion. "I like to think that I am," she responds to Larko, exhausted, "but somedays I'm not so sure. And yes, Jaiyana is my name. A pleasure," she states. She speaks kind enough words, and earnestly so, but there is an edge to her voice which tells of a harsh and guarded life and uncertain trust which makes the words sound awkward, at least to her. "Anyone can learn from everyone, I suppose. Tell me Larko, have you ever needed to fight for your life?" They young woman inquires curiously and as direct as always.

Ermolos moves nearer to Lucon, wiping his hands down his front in an almost habitual manner, like he's used to having an apron there. "Janiven said there was a carpenter meeting with her tonight, your hands have the callouses, are you him? I am Ermolos, blacksmith and would-be freedom fighter. My shop is near Artisan Way, near the stables. My shop services most of stables down there. How'd Janiven get you to come?" The muscular man is looking at Lucon's longsword with an appraising eye.

Lucon blearily blinks around the chapel, and as he's ushered inside he starts up, making for the door despite his bleeding wounds, filthy clothes and haggard appearance. "The wife!" he says, jaw dropping and eyes wide with fear. "I must... she'll... I must return home, now." he says, making for the door. It takes some coaxing to convince the somewhat delirious man to at the very least bathe first, but eventually he settles into a tub of his own. After some time, a rumbling snore echoes throughout the chapel, and a peaceful expression over his face.

He emerges some time later, shivering from the cold bathwater and warming himself by the fire. He slurps down a bowl of hot stew and his usual vigor seems to have returned. He's whistling under his breath when the blacksmith approaches him.

"Aye." he says, standing to meet him. "Aye, I am him. Lucon Tauranor, of East Rikkan upriver." he says, clasping the man's hand between two meaty paws and giving it an earnest shake. "Well met, Ermolos. It is always good to meet a fellow tradesman." he says, smiling. "I own a warehouse on the Westchannel docks." he says, conversationally. "Take in the lumber shipments in Falcon's Hollow and send them off to the shipyards." he says, trailing off. "In truth, I'm a joiner by trade... but not much gets built in Westcrown these days..." he says, scratching his beard thoughtfully with a glimmer of sadness behind his eyes. "Why did I come?" he asks, leaning back against the cold chapel wall, rubbing his stiff neck and closing his eyes. "Why indeed?"

"If I'd expected Hellknights..." he says, trailing off. "I expected to be sheltering slips and other lost souls, selling her scrap on the cheap..." he says, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Never thought I'd be fleeing for my life and... and cutting men down." he says, sparing a grimace for his borrowed-steel. "It's a Hellknight blade." he says, tossing it to the blacksmith somewhat irreverently. "Don't know the first thing 'bout swords or armour to tell you the truth. I had a crossbow at the workshop before my nephew nearly lost a finger..." he says, shaking his head and frowning at the memory. "Wore mail, too. As a young lad. Ran off to join the dottari. Didn't stop the bigger boys from breaking my nose and sending me home bloodied..." he says, chuckling this time.

Lucon chats idly with the man for a while, before excusing himself and going to speak with his companions. He'll ask a little about them and thank them for getting him out of the sewers alive, making promises of what little he earns that no man could expect him to keep. "At the very least, I owe you all a meal."

Ah. I am a specialist of sorts, and was told there were some problems that needed dealt with. Tavi replies to Yako. Now if you'll excuse me I must talk with those I arrived with before retiring for the night.

"I am a mere student myself, Mathalen, but I would be happy to show you what I know," says Enko.

"I am born a Wiscrani and lived much of my life here, but spent several years in the Upper Reach, in the Aspodell Mountains. I was sent here as an agent of the Upper Reach, to investigate and assist the changes occurring in Westcrown. I was fortunate to have been contacted by Janiven, and to her and all of you I owe my gratitude. It is merely my duty to bring to you..."

He pauses.

"I have brought something...please excuse me."

He turns to AC, Corneleous, and Amon. "I found something curious in the storage room."

Enko pulls out one of the small claylike spheres. "I know it is not a sling bullet, but beyond that I have no idea. Do you recognize it?"

Larko seems taken aback slightly by Janivens question, but takes it seriously, taking several moments. When he does respond it's brief, "No. Not like you're meaning, I think. The docks can be dangerous, even life threatening. I've fought for pride, for food, for money, and even for my health, but I can't say I ever thought I'd wake up dead, or... you know what I mean.

Ermolos listens, wide-eyed, as Lucon describes some of their evening. [b]"Well my experience was about the same, minus the runnin-for-my-life and cutting-men-down parts. I'm thinking you did your part and then some to protect these others that were in the sewers with you, judging by your state. That's no small thing friend." He offers up other details, his experience so far since joining Arael. When Lucon excuses himself Ermolos is gracious and expresses his desire to speak with the carpenter again soon.

Yakopulio gives a deep curtsy as Tavi excuses herself, "It was nice speaking with you, watch out for those Pie-Pokers. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other."

As Enko states his willingness to teach her, Mathalen leaps up from her cross-leggedpotion, jumping up and down severall times. She stops after a moment, remembering herself, and sits back down facing Enko."That would be wonderful!" As Enko busies himself with other things Mathalen excuses herself, virtually skipping to an empty cot.

If you have a reason for today to be a happy day, then I hope it's every happy! Do you all want to keep this scene in place for a day or two longer? Or would you rather the story move ahead and this scene can be continued in Flex Time? Loving the RP by the way.

Elsewise...
Tamili answers the Viscount without looking up from her tome, a hint of a smile playing at one of the corners of her mouth, "You may." and returns her attention, mostly, to the small script.

Need a light? the Viscount, somewhat cheesily, and somewhat awkwardly, casts a Light on his quill, even though there's clearly enough light in the room to read by. That's a mere parlor trick, but helpful in many situations. Tonight it helped us make our way here. The viscount slides closer, and checks out the book that she's reading.

The woman, Tamili, looks up as the light spell is cast, amazement on her face, "Did you just?... Is that truly magic?" her book forgotten in her lap. The Viscount is close enough to see the title 'Treantmonk's Guide to the Arcanana - Volume II' and it seems to be a substantial piece on the theory of magic, covering the basics of many topics related to wizardly without actually giving any real insight to the craft. Corneleous would probably know it's an interesting and informational, however impractical work. Created to allow the 'learned' to better understand the arcana in a neat little package, and often used to weed out the mildly curious from the serious seekers of knowledge. You can see this particular copy has been read many times, even containing small and intelligent notes in the margins.

As you (Corneleous) state that the light is a 'parlor trick' her face becomes crestfallen and she turns her mournful face back to the tome. "Oh, well it's very impressive for a parlor trick."

Larko seems taken aback slightly by Jaiyana's question, but takes it seriously, taking several moments. When he does respond it's brief, "No. Not like you're meaning, I think. The docks can be dangerous, even life threatening. I've fought for pride, for food, for money, and even for my health, but I can't say I ever thought I'd wake up dead, or... you know what I mean.

"Then I envy you," Jaiyana says softly. "But I am also filled with anger that some of us must. And with sorrow, as well, that you, a man I've never met, has had the need to fight for sustenance in this dying city. Citizens have it bad enough, slaves have it worse. How did you fall in with Janiven's crowd? A less exciting tale than ours' I hope," she responds.

Do you all want to keep this scene in place for a day or two longer? Or would you rather the story move ahead and this scene can be continued in Flex Time? Loving the RP by the way.

I'm good either way.

Amon smiles. "Not quite, but I do worship his herald." He flips his hand and pulls back the cuff of his sleeve, revealing an icon of Iomedae the size of a thimble sewn into the fabric of his shirt. "The Inheritor is not a popular deity in Cheliax, and I must take care." He puts his sleeve back in place. "And you? Do you worship Aroden?"

Nice touch with Treantmonk, BTW. :)

Tamili's eyes light up once more as the Viscount further explains the light spell and offers to show her more. She dumps the book unceremoniously on the floor, hopping to her feet and following Corneleous's instructions to the letter. She is completely enthralled in the effort of attempting actual magic, and is painfully oblivious to everything besides the subtle and slight glimpses of a greater power, made possible by Corneleous's excellent instruction. At one point the feather does move several inches as she manages to find that unique mental state which puts her mind and will in line with the Art. She resembles a very young child at this point, jumping and clapping exuberantly, even throwing her arms around the Viscount and planting a kiss on his cheek, propriety no match in the face of the fullfillment of a dream. "Wait till mom and dad see this! Oh thank you sir, I would love to continue to learn and I will do my best I promise!" It comes out that her parents run a successful jewelry store which they hoped Tamili would run once she found a husband (preferably one they chose for her) and settled down. Arael has opened her eyes to the possibilities of saving her once-great city, and has joined his cause with fervor. She takes the homework with a will, going off to a corner with a candle and paper, like a child with a new toy, it's doubtful she'll be sleeping much this night.

Larko is saddened by the grim words, but he recognizes their truth, "I work the docks, and I see the slaves come into port, it's supposed to be a slavery-free city, but it's a lively trade here. It's a disease that brings everyone it touches a little bit lower, steals humanity, and is a rot in our city. Arael somehow knew I was sneaking small groups of runaway slaves onto ships departing to abolishionist lands, and told me of a project he was working on," He waves his hand in a small circle, indicating this building and the people therein. "I couldn't refuse, I didn't want to, how could I?..." he trails off, deep in his own thoughts, eyes studying the floor.

Fiosa blushes prettily, a grin on her face, "Not quite either, Arael has been teaching me about Iomedae, what it means to believe in something." She seems uncertain, "I'm still very much a student, but I want to help!" at the last bit her eyes became very intense, her voice full of zeal. "I believe we can make a difference here, even if we give hope to just one person, isn't that worth it?" She seems to be confident in her words, but there is a definite vulnerability there, and if she's a halfling in a strange situation, in over her head.

I figure Treantmonk has so many guides out there... this one probably already exists ;) I'll be moving things ahead shortly, feel free to continue any conversations you'd like to in Flex Time. Tavi you specifically mentioned speaking with your group, was that just flush or are you trying to arrange a more formal meeting?

As the evening grows later and conversations start to die down, and fires burn low, Ermolos takes the time to announce that Janiven has something important to discuss with you in the morning. You all find space to lay down, and those who requested laundry see your clothes being dried on lines outside the bathhouse, freshly washed.

From your conversations and observances of the group, you see determination, friendship, and passion. What you do not see is an organized force, or much in the way of skills, organization, or leadership. They are mostly young, and idealistic, ready to save the city single handedly, but you get the feeling would probably not have survived the sewer escape you all had experienced, and you most likely wouldn't bet on them in a fight with Hellknights - Armigers or otherwise. There is potential, perhaps great potential, and some have already shown great promise, but they will not achieve that in this hidden shrine. It's impossible to miss that in their eyes there is the possibility for something truly great, for themselves and for Westcrown.

"Of course it is worth it. It is always worth it. What you lack in experience, you certainly make up for in enthusiasm. Don't worry, we will make a difference, and more than just one person will feel it." Amon can tell Fiosa is feeling vulnerable, but he's not interested in taking advantage of her. But there is certainly something there. And by the gods, she's a redhead...

The night passes without incident, and you wake up feeling refreshed and alert. With the exception of Lucon perhaps, who has been resting but the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead indicates he hasn't quite kicked the Filth Fever. Give me two DC 12 Fort Saves with an automatic +2 for your extremely restful night. If you get an aid another heal check you can get an additional +4 bonus. If you fail the first check you take 1d3 ⇒ 2 Dex damage and 1d3 ⇒ 1 Con damage.

Fiosa and Gorvio prove an exceptional pair of cooks, having warm mulled wine, spiced eggs, and bread with a small slab of butter smeared on for any who are hungry. As many of you wake up, most of the 'rebels' have already gotten food and are discussing something in the large communal area. Their voices have gotten quite loud as there is a debate of some sort going on. When you wander closer it turns out they are discussing what the name of their group should be. The more combative minded are tossing out names like 'The Knights of Westcrown' or 'Aroden's Army'. Others are pushing for much more peaceful names like, 'Guardians of Cheliax' or 'The Children of Westcrown'. 'The Children of Westcrown' seems to be gaining the most traction thus far.

Seeing you approaching they ask for your input into the name, this is what the group will be known by and rather than taking on the army or being known as troublemakers, most are pushing for a more subtle name to help them win over the hearts of the citizens of Westcrown. It also comes up that everyone is in agreement that once the group begins making overt efforts to win over the people, they should hide their identities and give something so the public can identify them. Sclavo has even gone as far as procuring hoods the group can wear, and a red armband to be worn on the right arm when they are doing public acts. This way, they explain, you can keep your personal lives (families, work, etc..) separate from your work with the group. Again the group, Sclavo especially, asks you for any ideas or input you have to the uniform.

It is about this time there is the sound of a lock in the hidden alley door, and it swings open, a healed and grinning Janiven strolling inside. "Ah, the debate continues I see! And you all look about as different as can be, when I left you last night some of you seemed to be on your last legs!" A barrage of questions and voices go Janivens way, but she waves them all to relative quiet. You can easily see the respect and deference the group gives to Janiven. "I have news, but first, Lucon I stopped at your shop and visited with your wife last night. I didn't think she was going to let me in but eventually I convinced her of who I was. I told her the whole story, well I may have left out a cut or two... but she knows where you are and that you are well. We had a good long girl-chat. Hows that fever anyways? If only Arael were here, he'd have you healed in no time. Which brings me to the news I mentioned."

She pauses for a moment, making sure she has everyone's attention, "When Arael was taken by the dottari, the Hellknights were already tracking him and claimed jurisdiction. We have been fortunate in that all of last night they were fighting over who would actually take him. I just heard the Order of the Rack has finally seized control over our leader, and this very afternoon will be transporting him from the city jail to Citadel Rivad, the Orders citadel not far from Westcrowns walls." She stops to let what she's said sink in. "Friends, if we do not get him back before he's taken into Citadel Riven, he will be lost to us forever. Worse, their methods of extracting information would break any man, even Arael, and each of our identities will be in the hands of the Rack. They won't send Armigers next time, they will send their best." In the somber silence she grins, a ray of hope amongst the darkness, "I say we rescue him." There is a chorus of enthusiastic consent from the others, but Janiven turns to you, "You've only just rested and we'll need to leave in a matter of hours, you've had time to talk to our number and see what we've begun here. The fact is we need you, each of you, to be a part of this group, to take up our cause... work with us to help define what that cause will eventually be." She trails off then, letting you speak your thoughts and ask your questions.

Regarding names...

"I believe a proper name should imply purpose, as well as symbolism. This city has been benighted by corruption, abuse, embezzlement, greed, and oppression. It's streets are as dark as the hearts of its leaders. Its citizens cry for the light of day. The light of freedom, and mercy, and justice. We must symbolize this purifying and washing of the city. I suggest, Children of the Light."

Regarding rescues...

"How far is it from the city jail to Citadel Riven? What route does it take? Are there any points along the route that would be hidden from observation by both the city walls and the fortress? How many guards will be in the escort? Will they be on foot, horseback, or carriage? How will they be armed?"

Barring objection from the patient(s) Jaiyana would have tended to the ill. With her healer's kit she can take 10 for a total result of 17, which should be good enough to aid for a +4 against most common diseases.

"I'm a woman of action," Jaiyana states when the idea of naming their band arises, "Whatever we end up calling ourselves as fine as long as we can do our part to spare this city from the Dark Prince's vile grip."

Jaiyana (and others, I'm sure) is still wounded a bit, even after a night's rest. We should probably spit up whatever healing potions we have left in the party fund from the Hellknights before going anywhere dangerous.

Enko turns from where he has been teaching Mathalen the very basics of melakatha, the Flowing Discipline. For a few hours, they have been practicing focused breathing and striking at an improvised target--a pillow tied to a pillar--and also a few basic rolls and blocks, in which Mathalen's eager attacks lead her to be flipped or tripped as gently as possible, and Enko smiling and laughing at her enthusiasm.

He lifts her up with a welcoming expression and listens to Janiven.

"I second Amon's suggestion. I am admittedly biased being of the Children of the Upper Reach. Westcrown is plagued with darkness, and thus light is that which drives the darkness away--and why stop with Westcrown? It has a proper humility to me, though," he says with a twinkle in his eye, "children are good at...stirring up trouble." He appears to be laughing internally at some sort of esoteric inside joke, then appears serious again.

"The cause will define itself as it grows, friend Janiven, and it grows best with Arael back among us."

Psst--I'm still waiting to see if anyone can identify my little mudballs that I picked up.

It's probably goblin poo. :)

Knowledge (humanoid scatology)

Wait, shouldn't a ranger be able to tell since they, you know, track stuff? ;)

Several of the others nod at Amon's suggestion, "'The Children of Light' does have a nice ring to it." Vitti says. From across the common area Yakopulio speaks up, "Not bad, not bad, but I still think it should be something close to the hearts of the Wescrani..." Hearing Enko's point about darkness plaguing Westcrown, the gnome nods reluctantly, "Now that is a good spin, the Shadowbeasts and other terrors of the night absolutely paralyze this city. What better to combat that darkness than light?" The appraising and approving look she gives Enko would leave most men sweating, and the thought might occur to the monk to check and make sure he's actually wearing clothes, so suggestive was the look Yakopulio gave him.

Janiven rolls her eyes and clears her throat, "Yes, that is a great name, we'll have more time to discuss it later." She looks around, her eyes picking out Amon and Jaiyana, "It's nice to see your enthusiasm, and I too prefer action, especially in light of our time constraints." She motions you closer and rolls out a rough map of Westcrown and some of the surrounding area. On the map you see your locatoin, and a the city jail, and a dotted trail leading through and out of the city towards Citadel Rivard, also clearly marked. Outside the city walls, but still a mile or so from the Citadel is a circled portion of roadway. Pointing to it, Janiven says, "I do have a plan. This spot is where I believe we should lay our ambush. The only people to use this road, with rare exceptions, are Hellknights or those providing services to them. On most days only two or three groups travel this road in either direction. The Hellknights are lax in their guard due to the proximity to the Citadel, and dottari never come out this far from the city. Banditry on this road is unheard of, and they will not expect us.

At this point she grits her teeth and has to visibly calm herself to continue, [b]"One thing I've neglected to mention, but I may as well... Turns out the entire operation to capture Arael was a... training exercise for the Order of the Rack. I wish the Order would give us some payment for making their training so difficult!" The last part is said with heavy bitterness. "To one of your questions Amon, the group escorting Arael are the squad of Armigers most directly responsible for his capture, and supposedly will be between ten and fifteen Armigers. There will be some on horseback, riding escort, and the rest will be on a prisoner's carriage. Their armament should be the same as you faced in the tunnels.

Pretty sure she's covered the important bits, she stops and catches your eyes. [b]"I want this to happen with the lowest loss of life possible, on both sides. The Order now owes a big favor to the city for giving up Arael for their justice, and this entire crop of trainees honor is resting on their ability to successfully bring Arael in. If we can stop them, and manage to not kill very many, their humiliation will be twofold and they should leave us alone to avoid future embarrassment. If we slaughter them, then it becomes necessary for the Order of the Rack to avenge the fallen, and they'll have a specific target for their ire. Any questions?" She waits patiently for the questions to come.

Jaiyana glances over to her gear and sees the heavy flail, its weighted surface having been coated in blood and brain from the day before. It was a weapon built to crush armor and bone as easily as twigs, certainly not one for mere maiming. "I don't suppose you would have any black-jacks we could borrow?"

We should leave now, at least a couple of us. To set up and watch. There is nothing worse than hitting a mark. . I mean a target. . . blind. I say myself, Jaiyana and one more head there now to keep watch. Also, is there anyone here who can spare a good shortbow?

Jaiyana nods to Tavi. "We worked well with Enko," she suggests. "All three of us seem to have keen eyes, and theoretically are good at keeping hidden; goblin antics from last night's escape aside." She almost manages a chuckle when looking back at their poorly thought out plan with the sewer-dwelling menaces, and another time she might have (having now learned from such an incompetent course of action), but the gravity of the situation kept her dour.

1d20 + 4 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 + 2 + 4 = 13I assume that's one fort save each, right? Also daaaayumn that was a close one. It's a +2 for rest and +4 for aid another, yes?

Until Janiven arrives, Lucon will skirt around the edges of the conversation, looking uncomfortable. He seems to think the matter of the revolution above him, and does not presume to interrupt. I will have some suggestions for the OOC thread however, and I'll pitch in if this conversation continues!

Lucon, forgetting himself, jolts upright as Janiven speaks; jaw slack and a look of abject horror on his face. "You TOLD Rebecca?!" He sags, slightly, resigned to his fate. "I would rather have the Prince himself rake me over hot coals..." he mutters, eyes cast to the ground as Janiven continues, his look of worry growing more and more obvious. "I... I should return to my family." he says, conflicted. "But..." he says, glancing at his companions "You sheltered me here, and tended my wounds. You have brought me back from the brink of death... If you need my aid this night, you shall have it." he says, gritting his teeth. "The nephew can mind the shop for the day, though I would much prefer it I didn't get killed. Poor boy won't be able to handle the Fall shipments on his own..."

"I shall need a shield, I think... and mail, if you have any." he says, meekly, uncomfortable making demands of near-strangers. "A weapon, too, and a cloak to hide my face." I'd like a sap, heavy shield and some armour if all of the above is readily avaliable. I don't mind paying for it with the 85gp I have in storage. Whatever would be appropriate.

If we are ambushing a group of heavily armored knights, we best be prepared. I know of a spell that can conjure fog, unfortunately I haven't mastered it's arcane formula. Perhaps we could invest in some smoke bombs?

"I am happy to ride with Tavi and Jaiyana to keep watch," says Enko, "But I am full of questions. Do you have horses we may borrow to get there swiftly? What is the terrain like near the area we are to intercept the coach? Is there high ground we can jump from or shoot from? Even better, if the ground is rocky, perhaps we can arrange for some rocks to fall in the road, or a felled tree or two to block the way. We would need spades, prybars and saws, of course."

Enko pauses and glances at Corneleous. "Barring those options, that grease you conjured would cause horses to slip, would it not?"

Noticing some looks thrown the way of the serene monk, Enko smirks and says, "The Children of the Upper Reach are preparing for conflict against the Sisters of the Golden Erinyes, and there are many bandits in the Aspodell Mountains."

"The carriage will be their weak point. I suggest we get someone out there immediately with axes and saws, Janiven. If we can cut two tress, some thirty feet apart from each other, we can rig them to fall with just a shove of someone concealed in the nearby brush. When the carriage approaches, the furthest tree falls and blocks the road. Then the second falls to trap the carriage."

"Could that slick spell be enough to spin or flip a fast moving carriage? If we can frighten the horses into going fast enough before laying down the spell perhaps we can halt the transport of Arael all together, lest the carriage speed away as melee ensues."

"If the tree falls as the carriage passes, we will have to time it carefully, and they will be on their guard," says Enko, "it will be difficult and dangerous to time correctly. I would prefer something that has already happened...something innocuous...but slippery...distracting...annoying...and not leading them to think of an ambush..."

His eyes slide around and rest upon Lucon and Larko.

"An overturned wagon. Spilling the smelliest, slipperiest fish Westcrown can offer upon the road. Such as 20 crates of mudpikes and barbelfish," he says, grinning at the childhood memories.

Janiven gives Lucon a sympathetic look - quickly , and nods as the questions come in. "A few things; the Hellknights are careful about clearing the road quite a ways back, a tree across the path may not be possible given our time constraints and the Hellknights don't need to take Arael in today. They could, and probably would, just turn around at the first obvious sign of trouble."

She presses on, "What I propose is this, Tamili's parents are respected jewelers, and has a great knowledge of the Markets. She can take those who need supplies to sell or trade for them, you seemed to have picked up a few thing along the way," She eyes the sword of Lucons. "Sclavo, lets go to your father and I will rent some horses from him, he's a friend of... whoever we are, and meet you at the markets. Those who don't need anything will just come directly with us. Sclavo, Tamili and I could set traps a ways up the road, and make a weak show of force. This should draw the mounted escort after us, leaving you all to spring the trap, and deal with those riding the carriage. The road has no ideal spot, but it does feature one bridge we might be able to utilize for an ambush."

Janiven casts a worried glance at the large, inexperienced portion of the group. "Anyone who wants to help with the distraction from a distance may do so, but we are not ready to take them head on. Arael would never forgive me if I got you involved in a pitched battle. The distraction itself will be dangerous enough!" Basically no NPC will be there for the storming of the carriage, but any ideas that will allow them to flee asap would be considered. They aren't expert riders either, so the mounted escort would need to already be pulled away.

I'll allow any purchases of anything mentioned thus far, including smoke bombs, at the market. You do have party loot, I believe, and Tamili's connections would find you places to sell these at 60% of regular value instead of the normal 50$.

The grease spell might cause the carriage to momentarily to lose control if it's moving fast enough, but wouldn't make it tumble over. the horses would have to make the normal saves of course.

Janiven thinks of something else, "We can get saps in the market, but I don't want you to sacrifice your safety or normal prowess for the sake of the Armigers. If.. no When, we are successful and it's apparent we could have done worse harm than we did, that will go along way towards this groups long-term safety." She clearly doesn't like the idea of hampering your skills in the face of danger, but if we can keep some alive and avoid killing those wounded to the point of unconsciousness, that is her real concern.

"Our group can block the far end of the bridge with one or two overturned wagons, and be ready for an attack. When we attack, members of the other group can release trees to block a retreat, and smoke sticks---and then leave by road or hidden boats downriver. We could even have our archers on the smoke end of the bridge. Thus the trap closes."

Enko seems perfectly relaxed as he discusses these military strategies.

Janiven nods, "That is a sound idea Enko, but I worry that there would be no reason for them to ride into the trap. They could just turn around once they saw the wagons, and wait another day, or bring more reinforcements with them. The river is fairly small, I'd say twenty feet across, and not very fast, let me sketch a map. Sclavo, might I use some parchment of yours?" The soft-spoken Garundi man nods and quickly finds some paper and a dripping quill.

"By the way," the woman whispers, "I couldn't help but notice you picked up a trio of smoke pellets, did you find those in the sewers? I'm impressed you could locate anything so small and nondescript amidst the muck!" ...And there it is. :)

Now lets use our imagination and pretend this is a poorly sketched.. sketch ;) The lines are blurred to represent a poor sketch, but you should be able to see the scale of this area. The river is 15' sometimes 20' wide, and the treeline is about 50 - 60' away on either side. The bride is closer to 25' wide.

Here's Janivens drawing.

I'm afraid my grease conjuration would be less effective on 4 legged creatures tied together than it would be on a 2 legged creature hampered by a suit of armor. It may help us incapacitate them, but not their mounts. I say we blind them or obscure the bridge- forcing them to stop to make sure they're on it. How far will the smoke bomb expand?

What is today's weather, specifically how windy is it? Knowledge Nature?

The weather consists of bright sunlight, a gentle breeze (which would be all but nullified in the forest area you're headed to), and a few lazy clouds in the sky. Basically a great day for an ambush.

"How deep is the river? Perhaps we could hide beneath the bridge? Or better yet, if it isn't so great a fall to seriously injure Arael, could we weaken the bridge so that it will collapse when the carriage passes over it. It would certainly slow them down, especially if it damages their wheels or breaks the legs of their horses. It pains me to think of the beasts suffering for the sins of the Hellknights though," the young ranger interjects.

So we stop them at the Bridge while some of us ambush them from behind? Sounds plausible.

shopping for a scroll of obscuring mist. 25g? A wand of ready of enfeeblement is far too pricey, but would be spectacular.

Sorry people, in between the family reunion and work, time has been a tad scarce the last day or two. Hopefully things will start to calm down.

Janiven starts shaking her head at Jaiyana's suggestion, "The river is around ten feet deep in the middle, and it's possible to hide underneath it I believe. The bridge is made of stone and quite sturdy, it was built back when Citadel Riven was constructed, and it was made to last. Unless you've a method I am not aware of," and her eyes flick towards the magically inclined in your group, [/b]"it'd take more time than we have to bring that bridge down. Plus the loss of that bridge would probably be more upsetting than the slaughter of a group of their Armigers, as far as cost and time is concerned. I'd advise against it."

She turns to the Viscount as he speaks up, [b]"That is the plan I propose. First, you lot get into positions to ambush them, probably around the bridge, but I'll leave that detail up to each of you. Second, Me and any others here who wish to will wait a distance beyond the bridge, and when the carriage is close, we will make a show of force, in the hopes of drawing the mounted escort after us. The escort will cross the bridge in pursuit of us 'easy prey', leaving a much smaller and less mobile force to defend the carriage. Third, and this is the part I'm leaving entirely up to you, but you do what you have to do with the Hellknight force, we get Arael out, and we all make our escape."

She has been pointing to various parts of the map as she steps through the plan, and now she looks up at each of you. "Is everyone in agreement or does anyone want to change anything to the over-all plan?"

Sounds fine on my end. Does the 'bait' team need anything to cover their retreat?

I would like to buy more caltrops, a couple daggers, and maybe a good short bow. I think we should just save all the CLW potions we have because we are going to need them lol.

Janiven shows a wicked-looking smile, "I've got a surprise or two for the mounted Hellknights who come after us. Also, everyone who goes will have a horse, so we just need to make it back to them to escape."

Tavi those purchases are fine.

Fort Save 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25

"Works for me; I appreciate the room for improvisation," Jaiyana agrees.

"Sounds fine to me. Where do you want the healer?"