Shadow is out of the fight for some rounds.
Flori isn't. She attacks the wounded one first.
In a swift move, she continues her swing, trying to decapitate the one next to him.
The elf tires of the archer's cockiness. He moves and fires unerring missiles of pure force at the uncannily fast half elf.
I got some more for you too, boy! he says to the injured thug near him.
It has moved from an arrest to a battle to the death. Flori's blow takes out another thug, who splashes into the water. Her second blow doesn't quite land however, as the defensively minded thug just dodges it. Flori is a terror to behold, clothes whipping and blade singing in her hand.
Lefty's missle hits the archer, but not as hard as it could have. Still it does some damage.
The thug in front of Flori's attacks in pure self preservation. His blow is slower though, and still focused on defense.
He misses, shaken at Flori's sudden destruction of his partner.
The other thug moves toward Lefty, unable to charge through the knee high water.
Behind him the leader finally renter the fight, looking for revenge against the caster that had nearly killed him.
Behind the bar the archer pops again, taking a shot at Flori.
the arrow goes wide and the fight is truly swinging toward the adventurers, Lefty's plight aside.
Shadow continues to be useless.
Unfazed, Flori continues, slashing at the last thug near her.
Lefty doesn't like his odds against the two he's facing. He steps back and aims a finger at the leader, chanting words of power, spontaneously changing his Scorching Ray into a Cold Ray, and firing.
With the twin attacks of Flori and Lefty, the attack disintegrates into a mad retreat. The leader and thug by lefty retreat for the door, running as fast as anyone can in Puddles water. They don't even stop for the dead.
Behind the bar the archer vanishes out of sight, ducking down behind the bar, then silence.
The elf runs after them, wanting to finish them off with another spell.
No! Flori shouts. They're running.
They've seen us, Lefty replies.
So? Do you want them going after Rafleck instead of us? I'll stand up to them. I don't care if the whole city saw us. They're crooks and everyone needs to know it.
Latharien didn't feel like arguing. Flori goes to work healing herself with her wand.
One for Lefty.
Flori drags the bodies outside the tavern. Lefty spends 15 minutes prepping another Invisibility spell, unless they're interrupted.
As the pair heal up,t here is a smash as a window of the Inn crashes outward, an invisible archer making her escape. After that, there is nothing but the half floating bodies of the dead Muckrakers. And the blood.
And STAY out! the elf shouts.
He turns to Flori. Now what? That's three people who know who we are. We should have killed them all. Now, every two-penny snitch is going to be pointing us out wherever we go.
Good. I prefer a straight up fight. Let them try to kill us, arrest us, or what have you. Maybe now the people here will see that the Muckrakers are not so invulnerable. They can fight back against them, and win. Did you hear that man say there was a bonus for killing us? A bonus from who? The dwarf? Their boss? Both?
They'll kill him now, you know. Unless we're there to protect him, they'll find him and he'll disappear. the elf warns.
Let's find him first, then. He must have friends. We can organize some kind of resistance.
After a few minutes, they leave, going to the area where Rafleck lives to look for him.
The trio, Lefty, Flori and Shadow leave the Green Mast, sloshing through water. The streets look fairly empty as they pass through them, heading toward the Little Inner Sea.
They find the large pool, dotted with rotting ships and smashed refuse from s hips blown in during storms. The water is deep enough neither of them can see even a hint of the bottom. The streets are high too and the briny water reaches mid-thigh here, and Shadow almost has to swim.
As they round a corner, a grimy half-elf waves to them. "You are Rafleck's boys. Come over here, he is inside." He points to a row of houses, half-barricaded with cheap lumber and boards.
F: L:
They feel real good about the guy, and go where he says.
The pair are lead inside, past a rough gate and up some stairs. A rarity, this house has two floors. It is a joy to be out of the mucky water and back on 'dry land' eve n if ti is unpainted rough boards.
Upstairs they find Rafleck talking with half a dozen other people, mostly human but one half-orc with a club in hand.
"Ah, friend!" he announces when Lefty and Flori (and Shadow!) step in. "I was just telling my neighbors how you stood and fought the muckrakers. Tell the story after I left."
The audience is agreeable but skeptical. They need some inspiration.
Flori stands and speaks. Hello, friends. I'm Flori, and this is my friend Lefty. Rafleck asked for our help because he couldn't get any from the people who are SUPPOSED to look out for the Puddles. We got involved because we're tired of seeing honest people getting robbed of their own, while selfish crooks and their enablers in the Muckrakers walk in and take whatever they want with no negative consequences for them. Just for you.
Are you tired of it, too?
Let me tell you what happened at the tavern. Six Muckrakers came and demanded that Rafleck surrender. Do you think he actually had done anything wrong? Do you think they were going to treat him fairly and give him his day in court? Do you think they were interested in doing the right thing by the citizens who live in the Puddles?
Well, I certainly didn't, and I told them as much. I told them to go away, and nobody would get hurt. They came in, anyway. When all was said and done, Lefty and I killed three of them, and the other three ran away like cowards.
We'd have killed them, too, if they hadn't, Lefty adds, angrily.
Flori nods in agreement, and continues, Three died, and three ran away. Against two unremarkable adventurers. You know what that tells me? That tells me that they're not so tough. That tells me that, once they encounter any serious resistance, they'll break and run. They go after you because it's easy. They're opportunists. They don't want to actually risk their lives to steal from you. Oh, no! They want the easy meal!
So, if you want to keep what's yours, you'll have to fight for it. Once Dalgus and the Muckrakers understand that they can't just waltz in with out a fight, they'll either have to fight to get what they want, or just realize that you're not doormats to be walked over, and deal with you fairly.
She draws her falchion and thrusts it upward.
So, what will we do? Let a few men decide that what they say goes, or teach them that there will be no oppression of proud, strong people who will fight for what's rightfully theirs?
A cry goes up at Flori's words, a cheer and roar for action.
'For the Puddles! For the people!"
It repeats, interspersed with 'For our home!"
As this goes on Rafleck comes over, "We have about a dozen men or so in this block of houses. I have a feeling they are going to come and try to take it by force. Do you think we can stand up to them?"
More would be better. Do you have any allies among the gillmen, or any warriors or spellcasters? I fear that the Muckruckers can pull in a lot of mercenaries, if they want to. We'll need numbers, and people who can really fight, Lefty warns, surprised at his own interest in this nascent revolution.
Flori is more positive. I think they're not committed enough to this to die for it. A show of strength and a few beat downs should make them see reason. All the same, some weapons and armor would go a long way. What do these men have to fight with?
Rafleck frowns, "Not much. Most of us are poor people, not alot of swords and bows."
Another man, a brawny man with a deep tan that speaks of Garund ancestry comes over, grinning. Hearing the talk he sobers a bit and says, 'Why not try the Soggy Piper?" A very disreputable local bar. 'They are usually spoiling for a fight."
Rafleck nods then adds, "But we'll need weapons. Not many armories in the Puddles. Know any, Varl?'
The tanned man frowns and says, 'Only the Brine, but that would be a gutsy place to rob!" Both men laugh.
The Brine is the local jail and storehouse for the Muckrakers (not their base though).
There's an idea, Varl.
Lefty's mind almost audibly whirs.
He proposes combining two missions: Recruit some ruffians from the Soggy Piper, then head to the Brine for a confrontation with whatever guards are there.
He and Flori will take advantage of the situation to sneak in and access the armory. Maybe they'll let the prisoners out, too. Most of them probably don't deserve to be there, anyway. More bodies to throw onto the gears of the oppressor!
More men, more weapons. You could get the advantage and keep it long term. What do you say, gentlemen?
Rafleck and Varl both look at the pair like they have gone crazy but then Rafleck grins. "Hung for a sheep or a lion! We'll back you. let us organize here, send along anyone you meet." Already a few young runners are sent out to organize the district. There is the feeling of revolt and rebellion in the air.
Flori, being the wiser one, isn't as optimistic about their odds with this venture, but she'd already drawn first blood. The Muckruckers, as well as the dwarf, will up the ante. She started this war herself, and she'd see it through.
Lead the way, Varl. We need fighters first, then weapons and armor.
She pauses to heal herself a little more with her wand.
Varl, still grinning, leads the way downstairs and down the streets. men and women are running this way and that. Some are heading toward the fortified houses, fishing spears and pitchforks in hand, while others are heading away from the fighting. The water is a churning, brown mess. The sky looks heavy with rain, a overcast gray.
Finally he leads them to a inn that makes the Green Mast look like a palace. It is a long, low building, covered with green algae and scum. The water is deep here, well past the knees. The door hangs open, revealing a large common room packed with slovenly and well-armed men. Many of them are gambling or drinking themselves into oblivion.
A few give the trio hard eyes and Varl wilts a bit, confronted with the tough crowd. A one-eyed half-elf spits and says, 'Who are you?"
Prior to entering, Flori casts Prestidigitation on herself, Lefty, and Varl, if he's OK with it. She renews her outfit to look nice and not bloodied.
Flori steps past the half elf and speaks loudly. I think most of you all know Varl, Flori says, taking charge. I'm Flori, and the elf here is Lefty.
She finds higher ground, if it can be had, and raises her voice even more. I'm told that here we can find fighting men: People who aren't afraid to defend what's theirs. Is this true?
She pauses, wanting their attention more than an answer.
The Muckruckers seem to think they have the right to push people around however they want. They charge people with b%**#$9& offenses, beat people just for fun, and lock up innocent folks in the Brine, a miserable place you wouldn't let a dog stay in! I'm sure some of you know people who have died in there...
She pauses, for dramatic effect. She seems to have some talent for rousing the rabble.
There are twenty five people in the nasty little inn, including some rough looking woman. One man, a scarred Garund with a round belly stands upa nd goes eye to eye with Flori.
'What's in it for us?" The man says, trying to stare Flori down.
You get to be a principled man, rather than a weak mouse...And you could get a nice weapon or two out of it, too, not to mention control of your own demesne, rather than petty peonage to greedy thugs.
'Demesne?' The man says, obviously having no idea what the word meant.
Then he adds, eyeing Flori. 'I bet I work wrestle you down right now."
'What are you paying?" A thin, rangy man asks from the back. 'I got no love for the Muckies, but I live on coin."
We don't have time for silly games, she says, dismissing the fat man. We have a fight to win.
Lefty calmly ignores the man, too, and says nothing.
Take a man, take his coin, she says to the thin man. The Muckruckers live by that more than any man here. They've taken everything from people, but they always want more. Is that 'good enough' for you? Or, would you fight for better?
The thin man stands up, and walks easily though the water, sword at his side and a bow on his back. He leans against the bar and drinks some nasty looking beer.
"Good enough is not a bad place to start. Appealing to our..what you call them...morals isn't the way to go, sweetheart. Appeal to my pocket. What are you paying?" a rumble of agreement rolls through the inn.
Perhaps you didn't hear me. I said, "Take a man, take his coin." Your pay is whatever you can take from the vanquished.
She speaks a little louder, for the other unconvinced. Our first stop will be at the Brine. There's an armory there, with plenty of weapons free for the taking. What's a short sword go for these days? Ten gold? How about a crossbow? Thirty five? More? Maybe some armor, too?
I'm not paying anyone. I'm just trying to take the boot off our necks so we can all keep what's ours. You can come with us and fight, or stay here and drown your hopelessness in ale. The Muckruckers will keep doing what they do until someone stands up to them. They're not that strong. We can take 'em, but we gotta act now, before it's too late.
The rangy man grins the, "I like the sound of that." A rumor of agreement again, about a dozen men and women stand up. 'Who are you, anyway?" the rangy man asks, pulling out his bow, inspecting it.
I'm Flori Starkin of Calistria. This is Lefty. We help people get revenge.
With that, Lefty casts message on Flori and Varl, then starts towards the door. He wants to find a way into the Brine by the time the rabble show up there.
Flori goes on, We'll break into the Brine, take what weapons are there, and organize a fighting force that will put those Muckies in their place! Grab your weapons and let's go!
'Calistria, eh/" the rangy man says, grinning, "I've always had a taste for her. Let's go sting the Muckies." A dozen armed men and women follow Flori and Varl out of the dilapidated Inn.
Varl looks uneasily at the entourage and mutters, "Can you control them?"
I'm not sure I can control them, really. I'll try, the young woman says. Flori had never led such an entourage before. She hoped to make it work.
Eyes sharp, everyone. We're going to give them a chance to surrender before we do anything. They might just give it up without a fight!
Lefty gets within sight of the place and looks around it. He's looking for entrances and guards. He'll take 10 on perception (16).
I can see the place now, he says to Flori and Varl through the spell. Let me find a way in.
The Brine is a low, squat building made of brick and mortar. It has a few heavily barred windows and little else making ti stick out from the dismal buildings surrounding it. Two guards, both burly half-orcs stand outside, playing at dice at a table out of the muck. A small curl of smoke comes out of a single chimney in the jail.
There appears to only be the one, solid, door.
Flori strides down the street, mob in tow. The mercenaries joke and laugh to each other, tossing knives and other weapons. Bawdy laughter ripples down the way. Locals stare at them going past, but do not join the fearsome looking parade.
Soon they are at the Brine. The guards, spotting them coming, send a runner inside to get the boss. Lefty slips inside, finding himself in a strongly built barred room that serves as a last bastion incase prisoners get free. His sloshing is hidden as the runner speeds past, into an office.
Outside the guard nervously eyes the dozen or so fighters Flori is lead.
I'm inside, Latharien whispers to the leaders through the spell. Still figuring it out.
He quickly follows the runner to the office, to see who's in there, and whatever else is worth seeing.
The crowd stands outside, unpredictable. Flori makes no threatening move, and speaks to the lone guard.
What is your name, half orc?
Lefty follows the runner but doesn't get a chance to go inside, as a pale, sallow skinned man son hurries out of the office, toward the gate. He had greased black hair, shiny leather boots, and a long pale scar. His eyes, a dark black are hard as he marches toward the entrance.
The Brine itself looks to be simple. A barred gate separates the offices from a long hallway, lined with watery cells, that runs the length of the building. There are maybe half a dozen guards inside, which follow the sallow man to the gate.
Outside the half-orc wilts visibly and says, shakily, ..Pite, Pite is my name."
Varl shakes a hand, "No, that is the name of that barber on Mudd street."
Before it can go any farther the gate opens again, and a sallow faced man in leather boots strides out. his voice is firm and commanding, 'My name is Vicard Inck. I am the Commander of this jail. What is the meaning of this disturbance?" he eyes the mercenaries and Flori. Half a dozen armed guards stand behind him, ready for trouble.
We're here to free you of your burdens. Step aside, and we'll just take what we need, no harm done. Flori replies. Pite, here, was kind enough to speak with us in a productive manner. We like that.
Lefty watches and follows the pale man, looking for evidence of any doors, weapon storage, keys, or anything he can use to get this place opened up.
Inck stands his ground. "This jail is run by the Muddied Center Reserve Civilian Corp and has the seal of approval from the Council of Absalom itself." he says the long words easily, with much practice. 'What you are implying is treason and a high crime, punishable by death." He continues to block the door.
Well, you see, whatever bona fides you claim from the Council, I'm not sure they'd look at this operation and approve. You've got folks getting sick and dying in there. Some might think it just a bit inhumane, especially seeing that you Muckruckers ain't exactly always on the up-and-up, and most of those folks don't belong in there.
Flori steps forward, ready to make good on the threat she poses.
Now step aside, and tell your boss you had no choice, she says, drawing her falchion, because you really don't.
Lefty makes sure that no one is looking his way, and quietly grabs the keys. He then looks for doors that would likely lead to the armory, moving 15' per round.
I found some keys. Now I'm looking for weapons. I'll try to let you in soon, he whispers through the Message spell.
Inck refuses to to give ground although he eyes Flori's weapon carefully. "I you strike me they'll hang you for treason, even if you win your little rebellion here. Do you think the Council will just ignore you attacking of their designated officers?" The rest of the guards aren't so sure and are not backing the sallow man so closely.
Inside Lefty finds a small armory. Inside are spears, axes, and a few crossbows. In a small crate he finds two potions of Cure Medium Wounds, a wand of Grease (10 charges) and three tanglefoot bags.
Lefty swiftly grabs the potions, wand and bags, then heads towards the door. He keeps the wand ready, as well as one of the bags.
I found the armory. There are weapons here for everyone. I'm coming to the door.
Not a moment too soon, Flori whispers back. Get out here!
He moves quietly, looking to open the door if it's not open, and surprise whoever's in Flori's way.
Latharien creeps close to Inck (10)' and waits.
He aims carefully, and throws one of the tanglefoot bags at the flat-footed leader.
He becomes visible, then hustles back towards inside the door before anyone else can act (30' or less), drawing his sword, and readies the Grease wand, ending the surprise round.
The tanglefoot bag explodes around Inck's feet, catching him totally by surprise. In fact, he falls over into the twisting net of gooey strands.
The other guards break in panic at the attack, leaving the way clear for Flori and her band. No one even notices Lefty sneak back inside, wand in hand.
Here's our chance, people! Inside! Hoga shouts, almost laughing. No need for anyone to get hurt! Somebody watch him, she says. pointing to Inck.
Seeing that he's not about to get mobbed by a bunch of guards, Lefty points the group towards the armory, then sets about using the keys to open the cells and let the poor prisoners out.
They'll both want to get in and out as quick as possible. Grab weapons, distribute them, let the prisoners join us, if they want. They head back to the lake area, anticipating a battle with the Muckruckers.
The real fight hasn't started yet.