Zane gently grasped the half-elf's hand and led her through the not-wall, smiling down at her as they enjoyed a moment of privacy. As Ishta interrupted the moment, the priest reluctantly released Azarra's hand, indicating the metal cabinet.
"There's that...there's a trap in the locking mechanism, though...I wonder if that key would open it? If not, I guess we can just bash on it until it pops open."
The elf shakes his head as Zane leads Azarra through the wall.
"Oh, right, the key! That would make sense. Mind giving it a go?"
Are you guys talking about the key that opened the extra-dimensional space where the horn was? I, uh... I guess it might also fit this...
Azarra looks a little dubious. She looks at the key and at the lock in question, wondering whether to try it or not.
If the key does not fit, Zane will take his scarred mace and begin hammering at the door, if nobody objects. Surely something protected by such magic would be valuable and/or important. He hoped it wasn't also fragile.
The key doesn't fit. Zane tries smashing the cabinet but only ends up hurting his hands, the cabinet seems very solidly constructed.
"Perhaps we should see if the key resides anywhere? Perhaps where the priest of Tempus resided?" The cleric shrugged, worn out by the futile effort of whacking at the cabinet. Perhaps someone had a better idea...
Aren't we concerned that we just lost two of our number?
Ishta is clearly not useful with locks. "Two of what?"
"Good idea, Zane. With the curse lifted I think we won't be bothered by his ghost anymore. Let us move to his corridors and turn it upside down?"
Ser Armithia walks with purpose at the wall.
And disappears through it.
Figures! , the knight sighs, as he sees his lost companions.
A key in Ferran Martinez's room? Well when you decide to look you realize there's a great many places something small could be hidden. For example under one of the stone slabs that line the floor, or stuffed into a crack in the wall, or perhaps inside a hidden compartment within the Altar?
By tapping it, you come to suspect the north side of the Altar is hollow.
"We really ought to invest some money into an arcane wand or a set of scrolls with divination powers that help you find secret walls, doors and compartments" complains the swordmage.
Ishta nods. "I totally agree. I must admit I wasn't hundred percent prepared today. This is something to fix for the future."
"Look! This looks like..." she says, pointing at the altar.
When the items are extracted from the hidden cache, she smells the content of the bottles and examines it. "Seems a healing potion. Well, two of them. Always nice to have at hand, uh?"
The gold elf follows along with the others. He continues to scan and guard.
"Good job, Ishta...nice to have your keen eyes about! And healing seems like it will be a constant need, with foul beasts and spirits all about New Phlan. Let's see what's in the cabinet, then head back. We have a bounty to collect, after all, and hope to give those who are working to resettle this place."
Zane walked to the hidden area with the others, letting Ishta do the honors of opening the cabinet. The priest stowed away his weapon, sensing the peace that had descended upon the Keep. It would take a while, but he hoped one day to get this feeling about the entire city of Phlan.
Azarra looks on with interest as Ishta opens the lock.
Ishta places the key inside the lock and turns it, she's rewarded with a satisfying click-thunk. The heavy door swings open silently to reveal a fabulous treasure, Farran Martinez's Arm's and Armor!
The shield is surprisingly light, made of some obscure metal. It's emblazoned with Phlan's heraldic symbol, round the rim there's a motto: In the service of Phlan may Tempus guide my hand..
Balanced next to the shield are an exquisitely crafted war mace and a longsword. The mace has a dark oak handle either side of a full length steel tang, he head of the mace is heavy and the spikes are surprisingly solid. The Initial F.M. are engraved onto the metal hilt next to the maker's touch mark (a tiny stylized raven). Clearly magical, it glows blue when held!
The longsword is plain, but very well made, with what Ishta suspects is blink dog hide leather handle.
Finally there is a set of blued chain main, again this is very fine work although it's without ornamentation.
Ishta observes the items, together with the rest of the people who know about these things.
"They all seem to be fairly minor items, though I can't seem to grasp these two quite well..." she says while pointing at the chainmail and the shield. Weighing the mace, she adds: "This one, on the other hand... has an enchantment that allows you to counter magical concealment on those struck by it. Quite useful, indeed."
Ser Armithia beholds the fine arms and armor. The knight salutes them.
By Helm, we are honored to be blessed by these gifts. I shall pray tonight and fast for this place.
The paladin finds a quiet place for the night.
Zane smiled sadly as he saw the effort the late Ferran Martinez had made to make sure his powerful arms and armor did not fall into enemy hands. Well, his effort hadn't been in vain, even if deliverance had been 50 years in the making. As Ishta mentioned the properties of some of the items, the priest nodded. "Your knowledge has again served us well. I am glad you left Thay...I have heard poor things of the place and would hate to see you sullied by such rumors." The cleric smiled at the sorceress before turning to the others.
"Shall we go ahead and see if the tide will allow us to make our way back, or rest and recover first before we attempt such things? I would very much like to build a funeral pyre and send the remains of these pour souls off on their final journey in some semblance of proper rites." He looked at each of them, though his eyes lingered on the half-elf a bit longer than the others.
Azarra gazes into Zane's eyes and says
I think that is a capital idea. We should stay the night.
The priest smiled at Azarra, held by her gaze. Oh...she meant they should ALL stay the night. Well, there was safety in numbers, at any rate. And he had grown rather fond of his other companions, as well.
Seeing as how Ser Armithia was already bedding down, it seemed they had a majority vote to stay already, so Zane started about the grisly business of tugging the stacked remains where the ghast had come from out into an open area of the Keep. He welcomed any help, but if not is forthcoming he steadily does the work himself.
After seeing to the disposition of the dead, the cleric sees about getting some wood or other flammable material to start things off. The priest offered a simple prayer for the souls of the poor folks who had died here those fifty years ago, again praising the sacrifice of the defenders as they held off the horde long enough for at least some of the citizens of Phlan to escape. With that, he lit the pyre, consigning their remains to the fire and hopefully clearing their way to the afterlife.
After seeing to the disposition of the deceased, the priest nodded in satisfaction and, now exhausted, tried to follow Ser Armithia's example of finding a place to rest and reflect. For Zane at least, he would reflect and give praise to these brave souls for their sacrifice, as his very existence was in part owed to them.
The young man was tired, but did not turn away conversation and company if it was offered, indeed it was always better to celebrate such deeds with comaraderie and companionship. When any of the discussions turned to the items they had gathered, Zane was polite but gave his very stern opinion that all that they had gathered should be shown to whatever assessor came to appraise their loot. In addition to it being what they agreed to, he didn't want their great victory here to be tainted in any way by such a scandal.
The cleric understood the hearts of men, and while he had deemed his companions worthy people, there were surely people inside of New Phlan made of less...character. Places on the fringes of civilization tended to draw a rough sort of folk, and some of these would surely try to discredit the successful undertaking of this new little-heard-of group.
Once everything was accounted for and assuming his companions had no lingering issues to attend to, the cleric woke his friends up at dawn so that they could cross the mouth of the Stojanow with the morning tide and tell the populace of the great victory achieved here.
On waking up early in the morning still filthy from the day before and cold, she regrets just a little that she agreed to stay out here, but doesn't let on, since it was important to Zane.
She got up when Zane awakened her and hoped they could get back to the inn in time for a quick bath before moving on to the next exciting adventure.
Early in the morning, Ishta does her studies and proceeds to identify the rest of the items:
After informing her comrades and having a short talk about the destination of the panoply, she asks for permission to go to the library.
There she greets Friar Jenkins, who has been investigating about the Cardonas for her.
"Greetings, Friar Jenkins. I wish you a very good morning. What have you found about the subject we talked yesterday?"
Depending on the answers, she might go to talk to Jandark's grandson, in case he has any clue about the matter. Otherwise, she could investigate about Durendal McGee and Shania Gest, or about the orcish raids at that time.
Zane woke the Watchers of Dawn early and lead them to the boat. The water was running clear by the time they got to the shore and they managed to laboriously row their way back. They didn't take the shortest route, going round in circles for a bit when an oar slipped into the water but before the tenth bell they where safely back in civilized Phlan.
Awaiting them at the quay was a group of guards who helped you up out of the boat and a severe looking priest of Waukeen.
The priest, an almost asthetic man named Morven with a permanent scowl introduced himself, "Greeting and felicitations Watchers of Dawn, I am Underpriest Morven of Waukeen deputized by the town to assess finds of treasure trove. The omens this morning where most auspicious, apparently you've recovered Ferran Martinez' personal effects." The gleam in his eye was positively avaricious!
Morven directs you to empty your pockets and everything you have is noted and tallied in a giant ledger in his fussy handwriting. The whole process takes nearly an hour and quite a large crowd gathers as the tally is counted, checked, double checked and triple checked. At the end he declared rather prissiy, "Sargent everything seems to be in order. Would you please escort the goods they have surrendered back to the treasury." He trails them smiling beatifically.
Still weary after the long day previous and the hard work of rowing the boat back to civilized shores, Zane found that his patience for the Priest of Waukeen is not plentiful. The followed of the Morninglord tapped his foot in annoyance for the better part of an hour as Morven thoroughly inspected their findings. Still, the gathering crowd was a good thing, the cleric decided.
So, instead of continuing to brood, he exclaimed loudly where each effect came from. "This mighty axe was taken from the hands of the orc champion, who was defeated by the martial prowess of Kardas of Rashemi and Ser Armithia of Helm!" As the assorted weapons from the orc bandits and shaman were looked over, he added, "The brilliant wizard Ishta slew those orcs surrounding their foul priest, blasting them with a gout of fire that overwhelmed them." When the key and horn were introduced, "The fair Azarra used her guile to call forth the Horn of Tempus, calling upon the defenders of the Fort to cast down the remaining orcs threatening the place. Fort Sohkol is finally cleansed and may be resettled!"
As the others who had other business to attend to scatter, Zane returned to the Inn they had been staying in, thinking that a hot meal and some wine would do well towards refreshing him. He invited any who remained to accompany him.
Azarra displays the Horn of Tempus to the crowd when her name is called, being ready with it since she caught on ot what Zane was doing before her name came up. The more people that knew they had it, and the more popular it was, the better rice it would fetch, she figured.
Very, very impatient with this inane system of treating them like thieves and not letting them rest and bathe, she storms off as soon as they are allowed to, leaving before Zane's invitation is uttered.
Only after she is washed, fed, and wearing clean clothes does she even bother to think about what she might know of the horrid underpriest or anything else she probably should have been observing in the crowd.
She thinks back and realizes that she was too frustrated to get anything from the experience, and knows that she needs to do better if she is going to have any chance of finding out what happened to her parents.
After paying her visit to the library and hearing what Friar Jenkins had to tell her, she comes back to the tavern where the rest is having a drink and joins them.
"Have you left a bit of wine for me?" she laughs.
Once having something to wet her lips, and given the opportunity, she talks a bit about her intentions - how she's looking for some clues about her past and what she's learned so far, that is, close to nothing.
"So I was thinking about paying a visit to this grandson Cadorna, later on after lunch. Would anyone be interested in joining me? Or should we meet later here?"
After freshening up briefly, the priest went downstairs and ordered drinks for everyone in attendance. He only intended to drink one or two...it was much too early in the day to get rip-roaring drunk. Right?
As Ishta came in and quipped, Zane laughed, nodding. "A drop or two, at least." The cleric caught the arm of a server, politely asking for a glass of wine for the wizardess.
Zane listened intently as Ishta talked about her desire to learn about her origins, nodding his understanding. Even though his grandfather had almost assuredly been killed in the fighting in Phlan fifty years past, it was still a question mark that nagged gently at the young man. Even if the man had somehow survived, he would be quite elderly now and wouldn't know Zane from anyone on the street.
At least he had known his past, though...he sympathized with the young woman. As she announced her intent to go speak with the smirking Cadorna, Zane said, "I didn't much care for the man at the Council meeting. I wouldn't feel right letting you go speak to him alone...besides, we could also ask him about the reclamation efforts and other political machinations while we're there."
Azarra, feeling a lot better after changing and eating, replies to Ishta's suggestion: I'm in.
While the Watches of Dawn eat a well deserved meal, there is a wave of excitement building up inside and out. Many people where discussing the Watches of Dawn's heroics but an excited youth runs in and cries, "The Black Watch! The Black Watch have done it! The eastern slums have been purged! HORAY FOR PHLAN!"
Moments news indeed, for overnight the area of 'civilized' Phlan had doubled. Of course whether it's was truly civilized was open for debate as the side streets where piled waist or even head high in litter and most of the buildings where seriously dilapidated.
Before anyone has a chance to properly take the news in, another gangly youth rushes in, and exclaims, "The council have made a proclamation! A new mission will be announced in an hour, hurry the chamber is filling up!"
Zane sighed wearily over the remains of his hot meal. He glanced around at his companions bemusedly, shrugging. "Seems things have been busy since yesterday. Ishta, maybe we can corner Councilman Cadorna after they announce the new mission. Shall we, then?"
The priest decided to depart swiftly...having been to an 'announcement' already, he knew how fast the room would fill up. On their way, the cleric brushed up against some others on their way, pardoning himself before asking, "Good sir, who is the Black Watch?" The young priest hadn't heard mention of them previously, though admittedly he'd been more keen on getting an eyeful of a certain half-elf than paying any real attention to what would amount to their competitors.
After witnessing the kids change all her plans, Ishta can only agree with Zane. "Yes, we should go to the announcements now. We can do the other thing later."
Ishta goes with the others and, on their way, she comments about the Black Watch. "I've heard they're some bad boys. They paid a charter as well and seem to be hoping to loot half of the town. We shouldn't let them take too many missions if we want to help the people here."
Azarra follows Zane and the others to the "announcement."
If their recent adventure had taught Kardas anything it was the fact that he was ill prepared to throw himself into situations where it is not just his life on the line, but also those of his companions. Back home he could reach out to the priestesses and bath in their wisdom, but here, in these strange foreign lands, it was just him. And honestly, it scared him a little. That familiar warmth of those cold unforgiving lands was something he missed.
Realizing this, and much more, Kardas came to the conclusion that since he was the hammer, all he'd need is a nail. And that nail, on which he'd hang a frame containing the insights and cunning of his homelands, would come in the form of a familiar. An arctic fox, to be precise.
Now, bringing one more companion to the Watchers of Dawn, Kardas joins his comrades without saying much. As usual. These big social gatherings make him a little uneasy as the social conventions of his homeland do not apply here: strength and seniority have been warped into tact, etiquette and gold-backed cunning. "Perhaps the Black Watch row with the oars they've been given. Those who ride a wild mare tend to be seen as harsh masters, because the animal they ride to get forward demands correction. Perhaps it is so with the Black Watch as well." Were those his words? Or was his new connection with his homeland seeping wisdom into his thoughts?
Once more the Watchers of Dawn, along with half of Phlan shuffle into the town hall with a general hubbub of excitement. As before everyone is packed in there like sardines on a tin, a horrible thought strikes some of you: What if a madman was to cast a fireball in here?! The carnage would be almost as appalling as the bodily odors coming from the great unwashed masses.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a cry as several people notice you and point. An approving murmur of "The Watchers of Dawn are here!" ripples through the crowd. This is followed by a chant of "THE BLACK WATCH! THE BLACK WATCH!" There gasps and whispers as several members of the Black Watch barge their way in.
As often happens with large crowds everyone starts talking louder and louder to make them selves heard, till everyone is shouting. Acting on some unseen cue, the council file out and their leader Eberhard smashes his staff of office on the floor and screams impossibly loudly, It was as if everyone held their breath, for you could suddenly hear a pin drop.
In a normal voice Eberhard continues, "Yes. I know you're excited, the past two days have been most encouraging. But..." He draws the word out as peers out across the crowd, seeming to meet everyone's eye, "Progress won't always be so easy. For now the forces arranged against us are for the most part ill disciplined, but there are pockets of stiffer resistance. Von Urslingen will explain." Rather stiffly as if arthritic, Eberhard sinks down onto his chair and tries not to wince.
As before Councillor von Urslingen was wearing his plate armor and stood up as if it weighed nothing, impressive for an elder man such as he. With a kindly smile he addresses the crowd, "Well folks, I'm sure everyone knows by now we have a toe hold on the Eastern shore. I'm sure you've heard The Black Watch have cleared out all the trash." He pauses and looks around to see nodding heads.
With a wry smile he continues, "Their efforts are welcome of course, but problems remain. Yes I'm talking about the Second Story gang, rumors of their demise are greatly exaggerated. They're still at large, operating we've learned from the Kovel Mansion."
This elicits groans from the crowd, and several pointed looks at Black Watch members.
Supposedly he's out of town visiting ruins in Cormanthor, but caution would be advised when entering his domain.
Von Urslingen carries on, "We have reason to expert the place to contain traps and hidden secrets. We also know several interesting facts about them.. Each of them has a tattoo on their arm of an open window. Their guild master is a vicious follower of Mask known as The Night Walker. According the auguries he has 17 thieves at his command. We want all of them captured, dead or alive and we'll pay 250 gold for each of the lesser thieves and 1000 for The Night Walker. Which company will do this?"
You can almost hear the gears working in people's minds, five thousand two hundred and fifty gold! Suddenly the room is pandemonium as everyone is talking at once.
Azarra isn't sure that this is a good job for her group. The money sounds good, but she would be perfectly happy if the Black Watch did this job instead.
She yells out Why not just pay the bounty by head to whoever brings one of them in?
Ishta quickly reacts to the Councillors' words.
"The Watchers of Dawn will!"
Then she realises, one second too late, that the one asking for sharing the bounties is Azarra...
Well, Ishta believes that, with Fengor away and given the size of the guild, they can perfectly do the job. But in case there are some difficulties, they can always ask another company and share the benefits... whatever before letting those Black Watches expand their influence!
The man's story of thieves, traps and hidden secrets do anything but put Kardas's mind at ease. None of them had showcased a particular knack for dealing with deadly machinations: was any amount of gold worth doing something you're not good at? Well, five thousand gold pieces..
"I don't know about this, Ishta. There's a reason the Black Watch have cleared the region, but avoided and most likely evaded this would-be sanctum to Mask. And yes, Thayan sister, that name should scare you. Also, that Black Watch member should be ashamed for starting the chant.
Glory and respect are given, not falsely self-created. Pfah."
Zane smirked as he noticed the member of the Black Watch starting the chant, rolling his eyes before trying to catch Tassok's attention. If he managed to gain it, he just grinned at the man, pointing at his eyes then back to the man as if to say 'I saw that'.
The priest's eyes widen at the proffered bounty, but he nodded in agreement at Azarra's logic. Whether piecemeal or in whole, it would serve the Council's interests to see the thieves' demise. The cleric smiled as Ishta took the initiative to volunteer their services, wondering if it was first come first serve. Well, regardless, they had proven their mettle on Sohkol Island. Perhaps that was enough.
Zane looked thoughtful, then nodded in agreement with Kardas' assessment. The Black Watch seemed more the type to work with the Second Story gang, not capture them. Still, he chuckled as the Rashemi spoke of Mask. "A second-rate god that hides in the shadows because he hates confrontation. These men are sneaks and thieves, but will wilt in the face of stiff resistance." He hoped, anyway.