The Elven cleric rushes forward and decapitates the druid!
'Tarlon the Imposing Sapling' moves forward and in a surprisingly quick move STOMPS upon the unsuspecting rat! Blood and brown furry gore ooze out from beneath Tarlons 'roots'.
Miriam swings her quarterstaff mightily yet misses the final furry fiend.
Gorgeous Taleisin supervises her gallant compadres with disgust yet oddly enough still inspires courage...her flag silently flaps wind blown inspiration...
The final furry fiend furiously attempts to attack Miriam,
Yet the druid dances quickly away!
Reginald and Zoren flank the rat, both swinging wildly like mad men!
And miss.
A rat like giggle is heard.
Rat hating Tarlon squishes the last rodent to a pulp. Poor poor rats, they was just hungry for your flesh.
The kidnap victims are hog-tied with thick rope and then tied to each other by the neck and are identified as an Imperial Navy guard, three wealthy Cassomirites, the auctioneer and your buddy Kafar the Aspis Consortium agent.
Kafar is on the bar, drugged, unconscious and cannot be awakened by poking or slapping.
Releasing and questioning them, they tell you how the cult recently removed several victims from this inn and took them to a ship called the Prancing Prince that’s moored on a dock on the other side of the shipyard.
The auctioneer reveals that he heard one of the cultists saying, “Once Ismacco arrives, we’ll make a lot of money for the cause by selling these slaves into the Chelaxian market.”
The auctioneer is certain he saw a Pathfinder with them, as one of the guards had his wayfinder. When questioned further, the auctioneer tells the you, “Your Pathfinder friend was guarded by some half-orcs—big, burly brutes. We don’t usually see their kind ’round here. Not sure where they was from, but they sure smelled bad—like they was stomping through the sewers before they came here.”
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Reginald seems flushed with excitement as the battle ends. "Nicely done everyone! Especially you, my sturdy friend." Reginald gives Tarlon a friendly pat on its ... head? "Sorry for not explaining earlier, but I tend to go into a trance in the heat of battle. I can only speak and understand Celestial in those moments. But I commend you for understanding me anyway, Zoren." Reginald's initial suspicion of the tiefling is replaced with a grudging respect.
"Anyone have info on the Prancing Prince or Ismacco? Seems to me we need to get to that ship before it can sail away!"
Most of the captives are fine yet Kafar appears to have been beaten and is tied over the top of the bar, his abdomen bare, bloody, and bruised.
Apparently Kafar did not take the idea of slavery sitting down and fought until he was subdued.
The druid had nothing of consequence. The information revealed by the captives is the best you have.
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Gilthanis, will then treat the open wound on his fellow Pathfinder, and will bring the other captives around him as well for added effect. He will make sure the rats are all DEAD DEAD, and if the druid is still alive, with bound as gag before using a channel to heal everyone.
Sheylyn, provide these poor people your love and grace, heal us
I will be happy to help treat your wounds after our mission he says with a smile towards Miriam.
The druid is truly dead...
Kafar does not wake.
Soren searches thoroughly yet finds nothing interesting or useful.
Kafar has been beaten severely and is in need of more healing...
When Reginald gently taps Kafar on the forehead with his wand
the Aspis Consortium agent awakes!
"Th-th-thank you" stammers the once wounded Kafar. "I must return to my superiors! Thank you again!" Before you are able to question him he runs out the door. Apparently seriously afraid of upsetting his superiors or just embarrassed by being healed by Pathfinders. Either way, he's gone.
On to the Prancing Prince!
The sun has set, and streaks of red and orange lace the clouds as you approach the Prancing Prince. A tri-masted galleon, the Prancing Prince appears to be in good condition and floats lazily against its mooring along a wide, crate- and barrel-filled dock. No one appears to be aboard her, however, and the standard watch typically found at the gangplank of a docked ship is nowhere to be seen. Atop her bowsprit is a gaudily painted wooden man that appears to be the exact likeness of the Grand Prince of Taldor, Stavian III, hands on his hips, a huge smile across his face, and his legs bent as though he were dancing a jig.
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Taliesin strides behind the group, able only to appear like she is walking the catwalk at a fashion show.
She stops the group to share some knowledge.
"The Prancing Prince is a tri-masted galleon, a former Qadiran slave ship captured by Taldor several years ago and now owned by a nefarious coalition of thieves and slavers who use her to transport ill-gotten goods to many ports of call on the Inner Sea. Her decks, trappings, trim, and sails all have a very Qadiran feel to them, though she flies the Crown-and-Lion of Taldor and has a bowsprit in the shape of the Grand Prince himself."
She smiles elegantly. "Don't worry...I already know more than most can learn in a lifetime."
The deck was recently scrubbed clean and still shows remnants of soap bubbles and puddles of water. It is otherwise deserted and completely dark.
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Gilthanis, takes the lead as they head towards the Prancing Prince. As he nears the ship, he can't help but wonder what good are transferred via the galleon, that Taliesin so eloquently pointed out.
He looks around for any other signs of life, or anything out of the ordinary.
Presuming nothing stands out, or anyone objects, Gilthanis will draw his longsword and head over to the lone door leading down into the hold, and listen for anything that may or may not be down there.
@Gilthanis, you hear nothing emanating from that door.
Opening the door (assuming so) reveals that this is just a supply room, you also note how these supplies were recently placed here as they have export stamps from yesterday.
Diving deeper reveals that these supplies indicate the Prancing Prince is going to set sail soon, though there are only enough supplies here to perhaps reach Westcrown in Cheliax or Merab in Thuvia.