"Everything is connected, friend Arael," says Enko, reaching for a potion from a fallen Hellknight and pausing when Arael sees it. "In this case, the Hellknights' bad deeds were connected with their downfall. Our path led us to you. We are here to rescue you, and return you to take your place as leader, with Janiven and the others. We have named ourselves the Torchbearers, to give new light and hope to Westcrown and beyond."
He lays the potion vial upon one palm and continues, softly, "It is an evil deed to associate healing with renewed pain, and yet you are in need of healing. Will you trust us, and drink of it, so that we may ride away from here? We will be discovered soon."
Enko kneels and bows to Arael, hand outstretched.
Relief floods his features as Enko gives his explanation, "Torchbearers?... Janiven, the others, they're well? You must be the ones she was meeting with, but the Armigers kept bragging how they'd found you and even killed some of you!" He closes his eyes as if remembering something painful, "Keep the potion sir, I've had enough for awhile." He suddenly straightens, bruises and cuts disappearing, "They wanted me to heal myself, to see if I could, but I claimed I could not, and nearly died for it. Can someone do something about these? I agree we must make haste back to Westcrown." He holds up his manacled hands with a rattle of chains, and peers past some of you to the roadway, "By my guess we're somewhere on the way to Citadel, a bold choice for a rescue." He looks around at your faces, some of them still covered by hoods or helms, with renewed respect.
Jiayana quietly nods her thanks to the monk and unstoppers a potion, downing it and letting it heal her recent injuries. She winces slightly as the last of her gashes and bruises knit in seconds.
"You are correct, Arael. Had we tarried any longer you would be irrevocably within the Hellknight grasp," the ranger states matter-of-factly as she shrugs off her armored coat and draws the picks and probes from her belt pouch, setting to work on the manacles. "But do not worry yourself. To my knowledge all we've met and heard of are indeed safe, but if we don't hurry soon we may not be."
Despite Jaiyana's efforts Arael remains shackled. Now that some of his bruising is gone you can see he's quite a handsome elf, or possibly half-elf. When the lock remains stubbornly fixed, "Perhaps I can assist?"
Looking once more out the back door, as if searching for something, "Was there a heavily armored Hellknight here? A nasty piece of work who was quite eager to start on me in earnest at the Citadel. I thought I saw them give him some keys after shackling me like a dog."
Enko takes a look at Shanwen to see if he meets Arael's description. "Is this of whom you speak?" he says, indicating the fallen Hellknight. "We used the keys to open the carriage--I wonder if they open anything else."
Tavi will walk from HK to HK, ensuring they can fight no more before heading the wagon to help unbind our new 'friend'.
Arael looks around hopefully, "So any luck finding an extra key?
AC strides over and fishes through the gathered loot, holding up his hand after a few seconds, "I knew I saw another key!" He then works his way into the carriage around the others and to everyone's great surprise the shackles pop open easily. Feeling much better after Amon's healing, he bows his head to the halfling, and then to each of you. I am Arael, and I undoubtedly owe you all my life."
Stepping from the carriage he stretches and looks around to get his bearings, but starts as he notices the bodies strewn on and around the carriage, in a quiet voice, "What happened here? Did you all do this?" He looks around and begins to note the rent clothes and bloody lines, and the newly healed skin on some of you, regretting the judging tone from a moment before. He bows his head with eyes closed, chin on his chest, and says a small prayer, asking safe passage for the souls of the dead. Looking up once again there are tears in his eyes, "Why did you risk so much just for me? The odds were surely against you... and so many are dead. It could have been you lying here."
"One day, but not today," smiles Enko. "We saved you so that you can save all of us."
"Are you well enough to ride, Arael? We have a horse for you--not the Rack's horses, but our own. Your own."
-After Enko mentions horses, and giving himself a physical and mental shake, Arael responds, "Yes, yes of course. Let us be off." You all move to your hidden horses and mount up, Arael moving a bit gingerly, as are some of you possibly. The ride is quiet and slow, and at one point Arael asks if anyone has a cloth or hood to mask his face, not sure how well known he is at this point.
"Lucon is probably right, Tavi; Janiven asked us to slay as few as possible and I'm not in the business of killing the defenseless. Nor showing mercy, which is certainly what a quick death here would bring these men. The Hellknights will be punished worse for their failure by there superiors than a blade to the throat, and they brought it upon themselves. With some luck it may lead them to re-examine their life choices. Doubtful," Jaiyana says, not taking an active roll in either restraining or freeing the halfling from the carpenter's grip.
Leave me! Let go Lucon. You want them remembering this moment when next they take one of us prisoner or our families? Then be on your head it will be, I wash my hands of this mess.
The trip back to the city is uneventful. With any surviving Hellknights well on their way back to the Citadel and likely shamed, it will be at least an hour before news of the ambush reaches the attention of the Order of the Rack—plenty of time for your group and your allies to return to Westcrown. Before they enter the city, Arael pauses to conceal his face with a hooded cloak—though bruised, he still may be recognizable, and he is not sure if his description is known to the Hellknights or the dottari.
Arael is a handsome man whose family has long lived in Westcrown. During the trip back he takes some time to get to know you and explain some of his goals. He wants nothing more than to see the House of Thrune toppled, but knows that this is a long-term goal at best, and has set his sights, for now, on what he feels is a much more realistic goal—making Westcrown a nicer place to live. His frustrations with the government of Westcrown aren’t that they are pawns of the House of Thrune, but that they don’t do more to make their city a better place to live at the same time. He hopes that by founding a group of do-gooders, if not outright “people’s heroes” (he’s loath to actually use the word “rebel” since that has negative connotations in his mind), he can show the city’s rulers a better way.
Janiven, with Larko and Gorvio, meets you within the city a few minutes from the hidden shrine, each of them astride a horse and leading several others along behind. "Thank the gods." she says as she sees each of you -mostly in one piece- and that Arael is with you as well. She rides a few yards nearer and clasps arms with the man, causing Arael to gasp in pain, before an embarrassed Janiven reduces her enthusiastic grip. He does manage a smile, "All is well, and I'm quite impressed by your friends Jani." Now Janivens blush deepens even more, and she shoots him a half-angry glare, "I forgot how annoying you could be El, welcome back. The others are fine and waiting for you at the shrine. Gorvio needs to get these horses returned to his uncle, and then we'll head right back to you all." Arael nods tiredly, re-covering his face with a grateful look in your direction and rides on with Larko.
Janiven and Gorvio starting leading you in another direction, noting your condition, cuts, and (in some cases) blood spattered clothes. Looking around to ensure you're clear, and speaks with a voice full of suggestion and intrigue, "Thank you all, well done. How did it go? Were there many... animals that had to be... put down?"
Janiven bows her head in acknowledgement, but when she looks up her face is grave, "I appreciate your looking out for my safety, but if Arael is the heart of this group, I am it's knife. It's not out of idle curiosity that I ask you, but due to the potential ramifications we discussed earlier, the information is actually essential. Again I do appreciate your efforts and sacrifice... but how many?" While her response was to the Viscount, her eyes take in all of you, now dreading the answer.
Not nearly as many as we should have, Tavi mutters loud enough for Janiven to hear, shooting a look at Lucon.
"We had a difference of opinion on the subject of mercy," says Enko carefully, "But I believe all survived to tell the tale."
"Perhaps we can come to a consensus as a group so as to avoid further misunderstanding. We cannot unite others if we ourselves are divided."
He thinks of dead Hellknights laying in the sewers.
Janiven looks from one face to another and vague details come to life, finally she just presses her lips together, and nods quickly, accepting the information you've provided, and canters ahead. Around the next corner a large stable comes into view, with a small crowd gathered outside, each man and woman trying to get a better look inside. A loud, pompous voice carries over the crowd from inside the stables, apparently the source of the commotion. As you get closer Janiven dismounts, and each of you follow suit, walking the horses inside.
Lucon looks uncomfortable at the talk at toppling the House of Thrune, fidgeting with his reins and eyes fixed downward. He nods with a grim smile at the thought of a better lot for Wiscrani.
Once everyone is inside, Gorvio closes the main gate to the stable, mostly cutting off the view from the people outside. You see the source of the pompous voice, a handsome, well-dressed, but arrogant-looking man berating an older looking Gorvio -presumably this is Jacovo the stable owner. You've heard enough to know the arrogant man is upset that Jacovo doesn't have the 'right kind of horse' available.
Jacovo, looking miserable, states in a voice full of praise, "Good sir, if I'd had any idea that the famous Thesing Umbero Ulvauno would be visiting my stables today I'd have made sure that only the best were available. I'm sorry m'lord." Thesing seems to preen a little at being referred to as a Lord, but that still doesn't improve his attitude over-much, "Indeed! I'm shocked that you weren't informed of my coming, how often is it that a Wescrani elite, such as myself, deigns to enter your odorous establishment?" He flicks some imaginary dirt from his sleeve, "I'm practically forced to conclude that you've deprived me of the quality of horses, that I AM entitled to, as a direct insult to I, me, and myself. Indeed that is three insults, you sniveling worm! Now what am I supposed to do tonight while performing 'The Elopement of the Dowager Princess' which everyone knows contains a scene wherein the princess and her handsome lover —played by me, of course— flee the city pursued by the king’s horsemen?" You get the sense he enjoys the sound of his own voice, which really is quite loud and impressive.
All this time he has been turning, gesticulating, pacing, clearly wrestling greatly with his dilemma. Now he finally notices your group, or he has pretended not to till now, and makes a big show of being shocked and surprised at your presence. He approaches Janivens horse slowly, as if he's found a great treasure, "These are exactly the type of horse I needed hours, oh nay, days ago!" He gives you all a sneering look, "You and these people are clearly in on a plot to ruin the to grace the theater! Perhaps we should call the authorities!"
Poor Jacovo clasps his hands together pleedingly, while he may not knows the details, he knows that lending Gorvio and Janiven these horses could bring the dottari or the Hellknights down upon him. "No m'lord, never that m,m,m,m'lord!" The stable owner is clearly flustered and out of his depth and his eyes flick pleadingly your direction for help.
Enko bends the knee for Ulvauno as a good Wiscrani should. As he does so, his elbow bumps Amon's money bag.
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By Asmodeus's beard, I have long wanted to meet the exquisitely talented Ulvauno! The last performance I saw you give was simply spellbinding. Tell me, where is this next piece being performed, for I shall have to reserve a box for my family, the Ornelos. the Viscount weighs in with his knowledge of the local scene, while not so subtlety combining a name drop and a stroke of the actors ego.
Surely you jest about these drab mules being the centerpiece of your show! They were barely serviceable as conveyance for my entourage's tour of the city. Please accept my apologies for any inconvenience that I may have caused you, I simply had to have the horses today and wouldn't take no for an answer. I am sure the stable can have them brushed down and ready to be transformed into something magical on stage in short order.
The Viscount extends one hand for a shake, flourishing his signet ring.
Jaiyana raises an eyebrow skeptically as Thesing speaks, and cocks her head toward Enko as if to ask who is this clown, but manages to bite her tongue and remain silent, lest it call negative attention to their band so soon after springing Arael with needless sarcasm, allowing the Viscount his pleasantries. Though she hadn't heard of this particular man he was obviously one of the unfortunate by-products of the ailing society she was working to cure.
Ulvauno smiles broadly at Enko's show of respect, nods his head in deference to the Viscount, but doesn't take Corneleous' hand, "Recently manicured, you understand, and dear fellow you look and smell exceptionally rancid for a man of your stature, hard times at the Ornelos these days?" the last is said with a smirk and nothing resembling sincere concern, but he appears happier for the exchange. He frowns slightly at Jaiyana's lack of acknowledgement of any kind, lifting his head to better look down his finely shaped nose at her. As Amon speaks Ulvauno places a hand on the halflings shoulder, "While you are able to recognize a fine actor, I wouldn't expect someone of your stature to understand the intricacies of pure theater. Why, how better to portray a realistic chase scene than with fatigued and bloodied horses? Granted they aren't bloody now, but do not fear, they will be before the show. And while I could get what is my due from another stablemaster, I am convinced this error was merely an oversight due to the mans overworked mental faculties, and general poor judgement. No good peasants, you are not in fact evil, merely bumpkins, as much victims as I... or I if I were poor and ugly. You may go now." He actually ruffles Amon's hair a little as his finishes pontificating.
He then turns back to Jacovo, tone still pompous but quiet and appeased now. When the actor isn't looking the stablemaster mouths a quick but grateful 'Thank You!' and returns his attention to Ulvauno. Gorvio whispers, "I'll stay with him, you head back. We'll be fine now."
Enko looks at the horses, then at Ulvauno, and practices compassion, and keeps practicing. He memorizes Ulvauno's face, and turns to leave.
Lucon looks uncomfortable in the presence of the quite-obviously important man. He wouldn't presume to interrupt his betters, staring fixedly at his feet through the entire exchange. Shuffling slightly and trying not to draw attention to himself, the hulking man seems to be trying to hide behind Amon.