The sorcerer stoops to pick up Armand, slinging one of the junior armiger's arms over his shoulder, and wrapping his own arm around their foe's waist. "Why must a man weigh so much? Signore Winstrom, may I beg your assistance?"
Pallius easily knocks the leader unconscious, as he is not resisting his fate, clearly believing you are going to kill him. Some tears well up in his eyes, right before the hit.
Jerod walks over to help Marcello carry the unconscious man, hoping to fall in behind the others and finally be rid of the sewers.
Tuktuk stops to administer one of his own potions to Lhuar, figurig that somehow he owed the fellow for being a sizable body to hide behind. Then, after helping him to his feet, Tuktuk follows the others.
Pallius will also drink one of his CLW potions:
Tuktuk quaffs his last remaining potion and helps the others with carrying or dragging the men to the best of his ability...however meager that may be. He nods to Zeke. Lead the way!
Tuktuk stops to administer one of his own potions to Lhuar, figurig that somehow he owed the fellow for being a sizable body to hide behind. Then, after helping him to his feet, Tuktuk follows the others.
1d8+1
Lhuar awakens to see Tuktuk standing over him.
"Bah, it was a lucky shot." is all he says.
It is obvious that he is quiet embarrassed at having been taken down
redot
Zeke comes running out of his hiding place and sees the party carrying the unconscious guardsmen. "Uh....where do you think you're going with them? I don't think the resistance will appreciate you bringing soldiers to their hideout, even if they are only rank and file! That'll just bring the massive force of the Citadel upon our heads and we don't want that! Can't you leave them somewhere? I think you've wiped out the goblin tribe, so no worries about them." Zeke waits for your answer.
"They've seen our faces! While it don't matter for me, some of us... are more famous than others." Leaning with his head towards Jerod, " I'd rather not start my rebel career with getting someone's family axed!"
Tuktuk nods with Pallius, his thoughts going to little Penny and his uncle, Zazwol, and what the soldiers might do to them if they thought that they were involved with the resistance.
Zeke, doesn't the resistance have a holding cell or something where we could keep them? Perhaps we could blindfold and tie them, then leave them somewhere outside of the city; that would at least buy us some time to warn those we care about.
Zeke ponders..."Oh, you're right, never thought about that. That is quite a conundrum then. We don't have holding cells, to the best of my knowledge."
"Yeah...I didn't really think about that until now," Jerod commented, a frown tugging at his lips. Raising an eyebrow with a sheepish grin, "...maybe they won't recognize me?"
"Either way, we should probably get a move on, before those Hellknights make it down here."
Thinking very hard for a few moments, Pallius's eyes flash with insight! "We could get them drunk, and hope they forget? Or stuff them in a box and ship them out?"
"We didn't exactly have a chance to disguise ourselves before the Hellknights started beating down our doors. The Inheritor would want us to help these deluded souls by showing them mercy, but doing so dooms our loved ones. How can I make that choice for them? Is there some way to do what's right and not damn those around me with the consequences of my actions?[/b}" He grows silent in thought as he continues dragging the unconscious man with him. "[b]We might be able to buy the cadets' silence, but not their commander. He's a believer - he'll be hard to turn."
"I say we do what we must. At the least the commander has to go. I don't think he is an evil man, but his mind is corrupted I see nothing good out of allowing him to live."
Knowledge Local:
Zeke looks a little uneasy with the party's suggestions. "Uh, we really don't want to spill blood, especially Hellknight wanna be blood. That'll just earn the citizens more repression! That's the last thing the resistance wants. None of you, save for the actor there", pointing to Jerod, "are famous enough to be known by sight by these men. Westctrown does have a population of over 100,000, so the rest of you are safe, even if they have your limited physical descriptions, given the lighting conditions in these sewers. After all, bearded dwarf and gnome don't exactly stand out. As for the actor, I'm sure his family wouldn't sell him out, if the authorities went to question them. Whatever you decide, we need to do it quick. The hideout is not that far from here and we need to find out where they're holding Darius."
Tuktuk and Pallius have "friends" (Pallius knows some shady thugs and Tuktuk knows a cleric of Desna who might help, given that their clergy are not afraid of the dottari or the Hellknights) who could perhaps deal with the "problem" on a short-term basis, but that would require contact, payment or favors, notice and days to set up. They're not the sort of people on whose doorstep you show up with unconscious guards.
Tuktuk nods at Zeke, then turns to look at the others. I know someone, but I don't think that they'll help without considerable set up...no doubt they'd not appreciate our showing up on their doorstep with these fellows. I say we leave them; we're in this now - for better or worse.
"Fair enough. We can leave them."
Shrugging his load to the ground, Pallius stretches his shoulders to get feeling back in them. "Less I have to carry..." As he goes about adding the hellknight gear to his list of things to carry.
"I agree with you, Zeke," Marcello says. "If we are to inspire the good people trampled upon by their Hellish overlords, we must give them an alternative to blood and chaos. Let us begin with these misguided souls - perhaps they might temper their views when they awaken."
Looking at the unconscious Hellknights, Pallius smirks: "You going to write them a letter? Sorry we knocked you out and took your stuff, let's be friends? Were we in their boots, we'd be in for a rude awakening..."
After loading up with their righteously gotten gains, Pallius kicks one of the Hellknight boots: "If we're leaving them, then let's get out of here."
'Maybe they will take the loss of their possesions as a trade for their lives. Considering the circumstances I say that is more than a fair deal."
With that being said Lhuar is more than ready to leave.
Taking 10 on perception:16
"Certainly not, signore," Marcello replies. "They expected death by our hands. By awakening with wounded bodies and pride, a seed of doubt might be placed in them. Who knows what that might grow into, eh?" He lays the Hellsquire down with the rest of the group, and makes haste to follow Zeke further through the sewers.
"As much as I hate to leave them, there's no way we'll change their minds right now. It's for the best," he agreed, nodding with one last look at the unconscious men. "We should flee the scene while there's still plenty of time. Which way to the hideout? It may not yet be too late for Darius."
Jerod will rip off a cloth sleeve to make a makeshift mask to hide his facial features and start trying to disguise his voice for now...because he sure isn't marring his own suit. Do you have any idea how much good tailoring costs these days??
Jerod puts his makeshift bandit mask on and the party leaves the unconscious guards behind and follows Zeke through the sewers after Lhuar spots the arrow cleverly disguised in the wall leading to the hideout. Thankfully, you avoid any other dangers, though Zeke warns you that he has heard rumors of giant sized alligators and flesh-eating oozes and even worse things living down here!
After 20 more minutes through the labyrinthine maze of sewers, Zeke leads you down an apparently dead-end corridor, where you find a cleverly hidden door in the brick wall. He knocks on it exactly five times followed by three knocks and waits a few seconds, before the door opens
revealing a muscular human male of Chelish descent in his late 20s, clad in leather armor and wielding a long sword. His face lights up when he sees Zeke and immediately brings the older man into a hug, exclaiming "Brother, you made it! Glad they didn't get you too!" Zeke appears overwhelmed by the young man's exuberance and says, "Ermolos, good to see you too boy! Now let my friends and I in, there is much to discuss!" Ermolos looks embarrassed and he steps to the side, ushering you all in and smiling at each of you as you pass by before closing the door behind you.
Inside, you find some torches and lanterns light the 30x30' room, as well as a number of cots laid against the wall. Immediately, after your arrival, a group of people (12 in total, male and female, all humans except for one halfling) flow in from the 2 side passageways to the room to the east and west. They all greet Zeke with respect but you can see worried looks on their faces. Zeke turns to the party and says, "Friends, I present to you the Children of Westcrown, like-minded souls like yourselves trying to change our fair city for the better!" The group of 12 nods to you, hesitantly.
Tuktuk tries to wear a grin of confidence, but he's not sure how well he manages, since the events of the past few hours have him more than a little rattled.
Nice to meet you all; no offense... He casts a glance at the side passages, half expecting a fine rebel army to come waltzing out of them. ...but is this all of you?
"Looks like we're the last ones to the party, good thing we brought gifts!" Emphasizing the party's gains. "Donated by the ever friendly Hellknights!" As he drops the gear into a corner of the room.
Moving to shake the hands of all in turn he introduces himself: "Pallius, Pallius Crispin, don't mind the blood.." As he brushes it off with a cloth "went a few rounds with some critters in the sewers."
"Buonasera, Figli di Wescrani," Marcello replies. "I am Marcello of House Lucani...back when such a thing existed. It was by the skin of our teeth we dodged the Hellknights beneath Westcrown. Had we not stayed together, surely we would have been captured...or worse, eaten by those loathsome folletti." He glances about the small group - judging by the fuss the Hellknights made about them, he'd thought the Children of Westcrown would have been bigger. He turned to Zeke. "Is this...all of the Children? Or just the ones who are not involved with other actions this evening?" He sat down on a cot, catching his breath from the night's exertions.
Zeke looks at the party, "Yes, this is all of us for now. Difficult to find trustworthy souls willing to stand up for their homes and demand change. I hope, with your assistance obviously, that your acts of heroism will inspire more citizens and win back their hearts and souls to our movement. Please make yourselves at home, food and drink will be brought to you. Rest, while I learn what has happened to our leaders." With that, Zeke waves goodbye and heads deeper into the underground compound. The Children all welcome you with open arms and lay their blessings on the party. It becomes quite clear that many of the people gathered have no combat experience whatsoever, except maybe 2-3, but their passion for making things right in Westcrown is endearing. Food and drink is brought for you all, as well as water to wash any dried blood, dirt, or grime.
"Grazie," Marcello says to whomever hands him a bowl of water and towel to wipe the worst of Westcrown's sewers off his boots and pants. He accepts a bit of food and wine, but not more than these folk have to offer. "So, amici," he says to the person who brought him the bowl. "What have the Hellknights done that has lit a fire in your belly? I would hear your tale, so I might better know the men and women I fight and bleed alongside."
"Speaking of bleeding..." Pallius grumbles, admiring the Hellknight armour amid stuffing his face with bread. "Anyone a healer? Those boys went down swinging." Nodding towards the gear.
Tuktuk looks about, waiting to see if any of The Children move forward to heal Pallius; he wanted to save some of his healing powers for whatever trail they may face next. If no one has the capabilities, he calls upon his powers to heal his companions.
"Well they are holding the city hostage by using fear. The claim to want to protect, but it seems they just want to rule. People were not meant to live like this." Lhuar says to Marcello.
"I am sorry I am not an elegant speaker, but my words should carry any less weight because fo it."
Jerod accepted the water and cloth brought to him then began dabbing at his wounds, careful to wash his face first. Unwrapping his makeshift bandit mask, he tossed it to the corner of the table, and then took in a deep breath of fresh air, free from the confines of the sewers. The actor, who had been uncharacteristically quiet until then, trotted over to take a seat at the table near Pallius, ever the willing to help himself to food and beverage. Biting off a hunk of bread and chasing it with some cheese, he goes to take a pull from his drink while detailing his surroundings while he made himself comfortable.
"Not that many of them, are there?" He murmurs quietly to any allies seated with him. "I sort of...," he begins, then pauses apprehensively, "..just expected there to be more, honestly."
He looked around to see if there were a private location to change, being the type of man to never go on a trip unprepared. After his expensive ordeal with the goblins whom obviously had no respect for finery, he was relieved to have had the foresight to bring an extra set of clothes.
The lone halfling woman approaches Pallius and introduces herself,"I am Fiosa. I can help clean your wounds and apply some salves on it, that should accelerate your healing." She seems shy in front of the burly warrior.
A beautiful woman in her 20s of Tian descent steps to the forefront and speaks, after hearing the party's words, in a melodic voice. "I am Amaya. All of us here have lost loved ones in Westcrown, whether it be to the shadowbeasts in the night or to the Wiscrani and their devils." You hear a chorus of "Aye!" from around the room. Amaya continues, "My older brother Henrie spoke of change and rebellion and he was "disappeared". We can no longer stand for this. I was a simple glassblower before all of this, but I could not sit idly by and wait for change. We cannot continue to live under a grip of repression, afraid to leave our homes at night. If there is anything you all can do, to at least lift the Shadowbeast curse, we would be eternally in your debt." Amaya's words, tone, and voice seem to have inspired the other Children of Westcrown.
The muscular Ermolos says, "I was a blacksmith before my uncle fell prey to the claws of the Shadowbeasts."
Fiosa speaks, "I've helped as much as I can, smuggling halfling slaves out of the city. Blessed be Sarenrae."
A human of Chelish descent with gorgeous amber eyes speaks in a very grave tone, "I am Gorvio, horse trader by profession. My sister was wrongfully charged with consorting with demons and executed."
A fit male of Garundi descent speaks, "Name's Larko, dock worker by trade."
A thin wiry woman of Chelish descent in her 30s speaks, "Mathalen by name, former porter, but was fired from my job. Looking for my new calling here for my spiritual peace."
Another muscular male, this one of Varisian descent, speaks, "Rizzardo here, can't wait to smash some heads. Ain't that right, Ermolos?"
A human male of Garundi descent interjects, "Violence without purpose is not fruitful, Rizz. There must be a lofty goal, a principle, to make it worthwhile." Rizz snickers, "Yeah, sure, Sclavo, I guess that's why you were a scribe, always a way with words. How useful have those been lately?"
A pretty female interjects, fire in her eyes, "Screw justice and screw violence. Vengeance is what we all want, the way this government just appropriates properties and acts with impunity. The way they took my parents' jewelry store...I am studying magic and they will pay, just you wait and see!"
A green-haired man interjects, "Calm yourself, Tarvi. You have neither the skill nor the knowledge necessary to bring any wrath down on the government. We have to trust in these warriors to do right by us. By the way, name's Vitti, woodcarver by profession." He smiles at the party.
A female gnome, the last of the Children present speaks, "Guess that leaves me, huh? Yaka, bartender by profession, pleased to meet ya. You know what I say about all this? Screw the gods! Religion and faith have killed more people than any disease or shawdowbeast ever could! You make your own fate and if yous need to take what you want, then yous do it. Am I right?"
A small shouting match erupts between Fiosa and Sclavo and Yaka, which eventually ends in a stalemate.
Speaking to all of them, "We are not here to exact vengeance. We are here to set things right, but if some of those who are guilty find themselves in front of my blade then so be it. I can't, we can't change the past, but we can make sure the past does not repeat itself, at least here."
Amaya nods at Lhuar's words, "That's all we can ask of ye, to make a difference for our future. Thank you!"
Thanking the halfling woman for her offer, Pallius washes down his current hunk of bread with some wine. Standing up he stretches, rubs his hands together and looks about the room: "Now that introductions are over, let me repay your hospitality. Who wants to learn to defend themselves?"
I like the fire in that one, Marcello thinks to himself as he listens to Amaya. She can work a crowd quite well. She'll be useful when we are able to move more openly.
"So it has been since the death of Aroden, Yaka. Destiny itself has come unravelled, and the future is what we make of it. Cheliax was a mighty empire when the God of Humanity guided us. Perhaps He did so a little too well, for when His guidance disappeared, we felt rudderless. We needed that spiritual guidance, and the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune found it in the Prince of Darkness. Now the Asmodean church suppresses all other teachings, even those of Aroden's own herald." Marcello removes the holy symbol of a sword hanging from around his neck, prominently displaying it. "I know the light of the Inheritor is dim here in Westcrown, and some might say that, if She was a power worth serving, why hasn't She done something to aid Her patron's most favored people? I ask you - what if we are that aid?"
Tuktuk generally keeps to himself, not having the words of the noble Marcello or even the bellicose Pallius. He quietly lurks about the training area, making the most of Pallius's offer, though still unsure of his place in this motley crew.