Paulus keeps his cool as the dagger plunges into Annabelle's midsection, his blood singing with divine power as he again calls upon Sarenrae's aid, taking care to exclude the two evil-doer's.
Assuring himself that the guardswoman bleeding has stopped, he will draw his mace, preparing himself to join the fray.
Zeverin growls in a fury barely contained by his more monstrous form, "Red! No! You bastards will pay for what you've done to our team." He steps up and makes a heavy overhand swing at the man that just stabbed Annabelle.
Decker 8 (light blue): 0/18 HP STAGGERED!
Drent: 7/25 hp
Ruby: 25/25 hp
Her pained gasp of the dagger sliding into her innards, is dulled by the cosmic powers wielded through Paulus keeps her conscious. I owe Sarenrae quite a bit, it seems. While Annabelle respected the gods, she wasn't overly zealous towards them.
She takes a step back and takes aim for Ruby, hoping she could buy some allow Mercy and Zev to finish her and the other man.
Decker 8 (light blue): 0/18 HP STAGGERED!
Drent: 7/25 hp
Ruby: 20/25 hp
As the villains fall upon the rallying survivors, Mercy lets fly with her charm - aiming a venomous throw at the knife wielding woman;
Dawnflower guide my arm... and temper the fires of my anger!
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Drent: 7/25 hp
Ruby: 10/25 hp
Drent: Zev
Just Ignore this
Ruby: Burning Hands
Drent slashes twice at Zev, the first one getting him in the throat, but not quite deep enough to drop the half-orc.
Meanwhile, Mercy's chakram slices open Ruby's face and stuns her for a second. She reaches up to the wicked gash and pulls a bloody palm away. Fury flares in her eyes, and arcane fire gathers in her hands.
"You B~+~%! YOU HALF-BLOOD B%@@&! I WILL BURN YOUR F&%#ING FACE OFF FOR THAT!"
Zev takes the cut, but his newly thickened hide is just enough to turn the blade away before it is too bad of a cut. A hair deeper and it would have spilled a lot more blood. He takes pleasure in the overconfidence of the woman, swinging hard at her as she carelessly tries to cast a spell so close to the range of his axe. "Not if I cut you down first." he growls.
Drent looks on in shock as Zev, who he was sure was a goner, opens a gash from Ruby's navel to her neck, ripping skin, flesh, and cloth with equal abandon. The woman looks down in horror as the arcane flames gathering in her hands wink out, just before slipping into unconsciousness and falling to the ground in a heap.
Decker 8 (light blue): 0/18 HP STAGGERED!
Drent: 7/25 hp
Ruby: -1/25 hp
Paulus watches in horror as the man slips under Zev's guard and slices at his neck, paling as the blood spewed from the new wound (like the half-orc hadn't already taken a beating today). The priest sees the fires gathering in the woman's hands, and gets ready to leap aside when Zev shakes off the brutal strike and tears the woman apart, the bandit dropping in a heap, her spell unfinished.
Seeing his friend is still in a bad way, and Annabelle looks ready to drop at any moment, Paulus calls upon the healing power of the sun yet again, excluding the two bandits in front of them.
Mercy takes little pleasure in Ruby's demise, instead shifting her focus to the remaining threat of Drent.
Dawnflower! The truly monstrous do hide in plain sight in this world...
Grim set, the paladin draws her borrowed scimitar as she shifts past Annabelle so stand at Zev's shoulder.
Once there she casts a quick glance at the alchemical orc;
... whilst those cast as monsters hide true heroes!
- Afore stabbing at their lone protagonist;
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Annabelle grits her teeth, glad to see the vicious woman get taken down by Zeb and Mercy. "Throw your weapons on the ground and get down on the ground!"
Trying to angle her shot around Mercy, the shot goes wide, whistling off into the distance.
Zev nods at Paul for the extra warm fuzzy feeling of health, before stepping over the body of the now prone Ruby. He hopes to take a side swing and hack into the last of them, and at lest be a little closer to blocking off his escape.
Zev feels something as his axe moves ever so slightly without his thinking about. It is almost as if an unseen hand adjusts his strike so that what would have been a glancing blow instead rips through Drent's neck, ending the wicked thug's life, and the fight against the Deckers.
Paulus hurries over to their fallen comrades, not feeling for pulses. The effectiveness of his next action will determine whether they lived or died in the brief couple of minutes. He reaches down to each of his companions, pleading with Sarenrae that their souls not be released to the Next Life yet.
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Calcedon stirs after Paulus' ministrations. "I'm guessing we won then." He murmurs as the cleric goes to heal others.
His gut still throbs as he lay there on the ground, his mind still clicking with the thoughts of recent and distant past. His first thought is to the violin and his hand reassures the case was not opened. He popped open the case and ran his finger over the strings. It needed a slight tuning, but otherwise it was in fine health. "It seems you fared better than I did in that one, like usual.
A half grimace half smile adorns his face as he struggles to stand. He wavers slightly once he is on his feet and he shuffles over toward the others. "So, that's the outside ones. I'm sure there's more inside, let's go show them a thing or two."
Paulus nods to the violinist, happy to see the man back up. Once everyone is up he asks, "could everyone move over here for a moment? I would hate to enable our fallen foes to reenter the fight." He walks to the alley where they just fought Ruby and Drent. Once everyone is there he calls upon the remainder of Sarenrae's gift of channeling Her divinity.
After Paulus gets everyone back on their feet, the party begins looking through the other warehouses.
Searching Drent and Ruby you find:
-3 mithral daggers
-1 cold iron dagger
-1 set of masterwork studded leather armor
-1 potion of Cure Light Wounds labeled the same way as those found in the South room
-a set of finely made bracers that a tooled with images of psuedodragons.
-a necklace of fine gold chain with one larger red gem surrounded by two smaller red gems.
Searching the Decker:
-1 set of leather armor
-1 dagger
-1 long knife (gladius)
-1 set of manacles
-1 potion of Cure Light Wounds (the one in his hand.)
Main hall (East Door):
314 gp
705 sp
1850 cp
-4 casks of cheap ale and wine (10 gp each)
-10 bottles of rot-gut (1 sp each)
-Enough food for 100 common meals (30 gp total.)
North Door:
-11 sets of leather armor
-11 daggers
-11 long knives (gladius)
-11 sets of manacles
(sell value for each set is 21 gp.)
South Door:
-10 potions of Cure Light Wounds
As Paul heads off to tend the wounded, Zev turns to his right and asks Mercy, "Are you alright?" Once he's comfortable with her safety, he follows Paul around and helps the injured to their feet, while helping them pick up dropped weapons.
Once they all gather around his friend and get healed, he addresses the group. "If we're going to keep working together, we need to have a little more strategy to our methods. A little more communication too, but that's a long discussion that can wait until we are safe. We need to check the bodies, and secure all these rooms and make sure they've been completely routed." With that he makes for the nearest group of bodies to look for anything worth taking.
After ensuring his companions and are in reasonably good shape, Paulus joins Zev in the search through the rooms. Seeing the young woman, he will find a spare piece of clothing (taking some from Ruby if there are none readily available) and hand it to her with a smile. "Put these on, young lady. Everything is going to be ok."
Mercy smiles at Zev's concern;
"I am. Though that I failed to save one saddens me... more a reflection on how far these thugs have fallen than how the Dawnflower's light could not guide them home..."
The holy warrior allows others to gather the weaponry and loot, concerning herself first that the prisoners are freed, then the more unenviable work of dragging the remaining corpses to be arranged near where the main body of the dead lie stacked. She also reclaims her dropped scimitar.
Once her labours are complete the tall half orc approaches Paulus with a impassive request as she returns to him his scimitar;
Brother - your blade returned, and a favour to ask. Will you say a word of grace over these fallen souls? Though they are doubtless bound for the dark Abyss, perhaps a spark of the Everlight provide a beacon for one or two... in their next lives..."
Zev is fine handling the heavy lifting and collection. Making appropriate piles of each. One for bodies, one for armor and weapons, and the last left for smaller finer goods. He leaves dealing with almost a score of young women to those blessed with more soothing interactions.
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"Wisely spoken, Sister." The priest accepts his weapon back from the half-orc, sheathing it. Once all the dead thugs are gathered (Paulus will help Mercy with this distasteful task), he takes out his holy symbol, summons a magical light upon it, then prays over the dead.
"Dawnflower, though these men and women were cruel in life, perhaps their circumstances led them down this evil path they took. If you feel in your wisdom that any of them deserve your mercy, please be as a guiding light to them, offering them salvation in your Paradise instead of the fires of The Pit they are surely destined to, otherwise. Thank you, Goddess."
Paulus nods to the Shield Maid at this point, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing before moving to assist with any other matters.
Mercy stands with Paulus, head bowed and hand over the holy symbol of Sarenrae as she listens to the priest's eulogical words.
She stands for a moment at its conclusion deep in thought, afore Paulus' hand brings her back to the tasks at hand.
The paladin then walks to where Zev toils and casts her eyes over the piles of goods and loot gained from their victory;
"These poor women should be given food and some reparation from these spoils... Likewise those who assist us in sheltering the rescued Lamms would also benefit from food and charitable coin..."
Regaining consciousness with a deep breath of air, Elise opened her eyes to the delight of seeing the familiar face of Paulus, and not the twisted grin of Drent. Gradually pulling herself to a sitting position, the young warrior smiles graciously and weakly adds "Iomedae be praised, you succeeded... I owe you my life my friends."
Wincing as she grips her side, Elise looks about at the carnage of the past few minutes "Is everybody alright?"
Nic takes a while to come around, and when she does, she appears to be barely holding on to consciousness. She keeps a hand over the hole in her ribs as she shakily retrieves her rapier, her face set in a hard expression of determination as she fights to stay upright.
"Guess I owe you twice over," she mutters to Paulus as she walks past him, staying close to the front of the group - after all, she was a highly capable melee combatant. Or so she'd thought until a few minutes ago, she adds with a grimace.
A hint of colour comes back into her face as the spoils are gathered - particularly the tooled bracers and the mithras daggers, which she stares at briefly, though makes no movement towards them. She concerns herself more with the large amount of women, anger flaring within her at the thought of what could have happened to them - happened to her. While not the most reassuring person, she makes an effort to calm a frightened one, offer her cloak to protect the modesty of another, and to not show how much her own wounds bother her.
As things begin to improve, Annabelle nods to Zev. "Yes, that'd be best. Luck, and the disciples of Sarenrae got us by on this one."
As she sees that the rest of the group is still among the living, she breathes a sigh of relief, even though it's clear this gang's dire deeds have gone on for some time.
She goes to help with the task of laying out the dead, keeping an eye out for a few of her stray arrows that missed their marks.
Responding to Elise, "Nonsense, if you and the others hadn't whittled them down, we would all have surely perished. It was a team effort, surely." He smiles at the radiant woman before continuing in his tasks.
As Nic passes by, muttering what amounts to thanks for her, he merely nods, smiling as he turns his head away. With the fiery young woman words would just make it worse, he thinks.
Once all the dead have been properly (as well as can be, anyway) sent on to the next life, and the women have been taken care of, Paulus will quietly ask his Goddess for a spell to detect magical properties, scanning the pile of loot to see if anything radiates enchantment.
At Mercy's suggestion, he nods his agreement. "Indeed, let us discuss these things while on our way. Perhaps these women have homes to return to." He looks to the ones in guard uniforms. "Or duties."
Regardless of what he finds, "Sarenrae smiled upon us this day, and upon Korvosa. While I love it not that we sent these men to whatever rewards await them in the afterlife, the city will be far better off with them off the street." He looks to Annabelle. "Let us go inform your friends that these have been dealt with."
Noting the enemy has been routed and the plight of the rescued girls, Calcedon puts away his brave demeanor and pulls out his violin. What they endured resonated with him deeply. It would require much more than holy energy to bind up the wounds within, he well knew. He tenderly put it to his chin and began to tune. There were not words for such an occasion, and he wanted to instill them with hope, with recognition of the hurt they've endured. Without thought he waved his finger in the air to begin accompaniment and began playing "Over the Green Fields."
As he played he lost himself in the music, his heart swelling with emotion. The bard began to shed silent tears in the midst of the music, mixing their grief with his own. Palatable waves of consolation swept over them all and any within blocks, cutting through the rain and chaos bringing a healing balm to the soul.
After he was done, he put away the violin, carefully wiping the accumulated moisture from the body of the instrument and neglecting his own face.
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Age takes its toll in many ways. Shiver and the subsequent withdrawal had given his body a second chance by burning away his infirmaties, but it could not renew the rate at which he healed. In spite of the healing magics, he remains unconscious for several minutes. When he does come to the land of the aware, he is greeted by a sorrowful song worthy of any court he had visited in his work for the Acadame. He doesn't dare move until the song is done for fear it is a hallucination, or the last pleasant thing of his life.
When he peeks at the musician, a great wave of relief washes over him. They had prevailed.
Well played, sir is all he can say in responce. He still lays there for now, basking in the dirge.
Zev responds to Mercy's statement of reparations, "Look darlin', I don't disagree right off, but that's something we will have to work out after we've gotten some hard coin for all this. Unless of course they want old leathers and blades. This is just one more talk we will need to have later." He returns back to the work at hand.
As Calcedon plays, he further works on breaking down the goods. He tries to pare it all down into piles appropriate for each member to carry with minimal effort. He binds the piles together as best he can for ease of use as well. His scowl and frustration deepen as he works, but he doesn't know why. It isn't until the bard finishes that he realizes he had just wiped his eye, and not from the rain or sweat of his efforts.
Mercy stands stoically as the group come together once more. Zev's comment causes the tall woman to raise an eyebrow;
"Darlin? I am a martial daughter of the Dawnflower Master Arkomin... no-one's darlin'! And as for our pockets, we will indeed discuss what we wish to do with gains liberated from our foes..."
Mercy turns and walks away from the alchemist, her face impassive save for the smile that briefly dances across her eyes.
Darlin... no-one has ever called little Merciless that... but from him I think I could learn to like it...
Paulus goes about his activities, not really taking note as Calcedon begins to play. As the bard continues, the priest slows and finally stops what he is doing, standing there with head bowed as the violin is masterfully played. It seemed to embody the mood of this occasion in its entirety, and Paulus hoped the captured women enjoyed it and appreciated it as much as he did.
What an emotional couple of days it had been! The cleric promises himself a moment of respite this evening to reflect on the events of the last couple of days. He peers about, looking for the most injured of his companions. The blessings of his Goddess that warmed his blood day in and out were down to barely a simmer, but he believed he had enough left in him for one more spell of divine healing for the one that needed it most.
Zev goes wide-eyed at the rebuke, mouth moving silently as he is left speechless for lack of knowing what he could say to save him. Instead he just shrugs with one shoulder, and offers "Old habit I guess." He scratches the back of his head, and looks around like he needs more work to do to occupy himself.
About a half-hour after the pitched fight ended, the group moves out carrying a good amount of goods and with fifteen young women in tow. Most of them broke down sobbing in relief after they realized that their nightmare was over. The guardswomen had only been in the Decker's clutches for twelve hours at most, but they had heard and seen enough to figure out what was coming. The young noblewomen had been taken off the streets a few weeks ago, and said that there were a few girls that been in there with them, but they were taken out and never seen again. The party is able to scrounge enough relatively clean blankets and cloaks to keep the Decker's prisoners protected from the elements, and to protect a few of the girls' modesty.
Once the corpses had been prepared for the Gray District, the party heads back to the Dwarf's Axe and delivers the news of the gang's demise to grim smiles. Jovan and Zekaiah help Saserri and Vincent take care of the women the party freed while Brask and a strange creature with the features of a rat look up from their preparations and see that everyone's back.
"We were about to come help ya out," the Dwarf says as he absently thumbs the blade of the axe that was above the bar.
There are rumors of wererats in the sewers. It's possible this is one of them.
Despite appearances, this is not a wererat. What you are seeing is a ratfolk, a rare race of diminutive humanoids that have distinctive rat-like features, but are not Lycanthropes like wererats and werewolves.
Paulus grins at Zev as he and Mercy banter back and forth, shrugging unabashedly if the man looks his way. It was great to be alive and victorious, and the near disaster had only made their ultimate triumph that much sweeter. He tries to keep this in mind as he helps to drag away the piles of spoils they had obtained from the bandits, panting from the exertion by the time they reach the Dwarf's Axe.
The priest stares at the rat-thing for a few moments, then decides to shelve it for later. If the dwarven proprietor was ok with the creature, then who was Paulus to judge under Brask's own roof? He speaks to Brask after Rhasuel's comment, "And busy laying waste to our foes before that, don't you doubt." While the older man was certainly eccentric and strange, he had proven himself a steadfast ally.
"Your help with these young women is again appreciated, good Brask. Korvosa surely has a bright island here in what appears to be a sea of darkness." He smiles at the gruff dwarf before turning to his allies.
"And now comes the disposition of our newly found wealth. Any ideas?"
Despite his heart and strings bleeding for the plight of the young women in such situations, he kept his distance. Perhaps it was because of his past guilt, perhaps because of the fresh disappointment. He couldn't help think of Kailani who was put in the same situation from him and his family. Would she ever forgive him? Perhaps it was best that he just stayed hidden and kept his words to himself. Words never seemed to help with his own problems.
As they passed back into the bar, Cal felt his body begin to sweat as he noticed the rat thing in the bar. Surely they got away with having less standards in this part of town, but a wererat! That was uncalled for. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to keep any children around this place. He began to cast a suspicious eye at the dwarf behind the bar. Perhaps this was his plan all along. Dwarves were generally perceptive, but they weren't always good. Perhaps they brought the children out of the frying pan into the fire. Peraps some changes were necessary.
While the rest of the party dealt with the kidnapped ladies, Calcedon went back to the Lambs they had rescued before and began to play a little music for them and ask them questions. If he could find any with musical or artistic talent he had a suitable excuse to get them out of here and into his own home.
Nic stops in her stride when she catches sight of the ratlike (man? woman?) who Brask clearly allowed in the bar. She seems to quickly realize she's staring, and collapses into a seat, hand still clamped over the hole in her ribs. "That's it. I'm done for the day, 'less anyone fetches me a drink," she mutters, wincing and shifting her weight to account for the wound. "Might just sleep here, in fact."
She watches Calcedon depart with a raised eyebrow, before nodding to Paulus to beckon him over. She stays silent for a moment, before sighing and saying, softly, as if embarassed, "I've never been a partiocularly humble person, but I guess I owe you a decent thanks. So... thanks. You kind of saved my life, and that's something." Leaning back in her chair, spinning one of the mithral daggers from the spoils in one hand, she adds, "And if I need to be saved, it may as well be by someone like you." She twirls the dagger briefly on a gloved fingertip before clutching it in her hand, the blade held back towards her elbow. "This isn't a bad blade," she muses, flipping it over again in a smooth, easy motion. "If it's alright with the others, I wouldn't mind holding onto this."
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Mercy pays little heed to the wererat-like creature as she joins the others inside with a nod and smile at all assembled;
Whomever Brask welcomes to his hearth, then it was not our place to doubt or judge...
The half orc sits next to Nic, admiring the woman's knife skills before adding her own thoughts to the talk;
"We should make us of what we can, then trade the rest? Coin or goods, we will no-doubt find use in our endeavors to come..."
The holy warrior idly watches the mithril dagger blade glitter as she adds:
"And what we do not use - there are always many in this fair city to whom our charity would of great benefit..."
"We got a few of these, right?" Nic asks Mercy, without taking her eyes off the silvery blade. "Maybe I should try my hand at juggling." A hint of a smile plays around her eyes and lips, the ordeals of the day slowly starting to melt from her.
Paulus slowly walks over to the flame-haired woman, taking care to not make light of what was already an awkward situation for her. "You're most welcome, though if not for the devastation you and the others wrought before your fall, victory would never have come. Besides, your dancing blade is your gods-given gift in this world. Being a conduit for Sarenrae is mine." He does chuckle a bit at the 'someone like you' comment, taking it in a positive way. He rests his hand on her shoulder, quietly chanting, infusing her with the last of his divine power for the day.
The priest nods along with Mercy. "Indeed. The coin would be welcome, but if you have a use for it, it makes sense for you to have it."