Atol gets his chance to demonstrate his magics and frees the two elves. They introduce themselves as Nienna and Elrohir Ringëril. They reveal themselves to be friends of the Striders. They were seeking a derro named Kravichak. He was rumored to be a Cagewright, or former Cagewright, and lurking in the caverns below Cauldron.
The male speaks while the female remains silent.
"He's supposed to be quite mad--unsurprising considering his race--too mad even for the Cagewrights. We'd hoped to find him and learn what we could, but instead we found a beholder and hear we are now."
Nienna then interjects.
"It has been years my love! We have been here for years. Meerthan lives on though. These people are the Cauldron Five and can be trusted. Well, except with your food."
Toffitt returns from his efforts shaking his head. "It seems the citizens of Cauldron love their city too well. I would have to be some silver tongued cad to have spoken better, and yet the common folk refuse to find safety. Glim, have you had luck either organizing the gnomes into a defense of Cauldron, or convincing them to seek safety outside the city? Atol, is Jenya marshalling the clergy to help?" He looks expectantly at the others, lacking their overconfidence about disaster stopping itself.
. . . . .
At the enfleshening party, Toffitt nods. "Yes. I thought we had discussed this. Zenith bears the same mark as Finneas here. He is no doubt among those who are to be sacrificed by the Cagewrights. If you wish to find him, you should come with us."
"And you, my dear Father Cupshigh. What will you do to help protect the people of Cauldron in this dark time? Can we count on you, now that you're again ambulatory?"
He smiles as his mother's kindred are made flesh.
Nothing if not single-minded, our Doctor.
"Doctor, the people of Cauldron want to stay and protect what's theirs - they have no wish to flee at the first sign of danger. We're not fleeing. Nor should they. We'll just have to win." Atol says it very matter-of-factly like it's just a matter of doing it and everything will be fine.
Of course he does not believe he is that savior, but rather the other members of the party which he helps. Not himself.
He greets each of the previously stoned individuals and offers them a bit of food from his stores. He considers casting Create Food and Water for a feast, but he isn't sure if Toffitt would eat properly or consider the delay appropriate, so he sticks to the rations, with a little honey added of course!
As the last of the people are freed, he turns again to the painting and looks pointedly at Dyrant. "How do we get the lovely lady out of the painting? It seems like she could really help us now."
He takes a deep breath and continues after a moment, "Or if we can't help her now, let's start the hunt! What should we look for? I've a spell that might help, but we need a specific and general place to look for."
Atol explains about the spell Find the Path and how it works.
Toffitt turns to Atol. "I am a doctor, Atol. My concern is for the vulnerable, who have not the means to protect themselves. Children. The elderly. Expectent mothers. Those whose wits have left them... completely. The sick. We must organize an effort to get them out of here, or see that someone else does. Or does St. Cuthbert leave the infirm to fend for themselves?"
"Kravichak, eh?" Dyrant asks the elves, finding them surprisingly helpful.
Know (Local)
Know (Arcana)
"Hmm....that is interesting. A derro, huh? Those deranged demented dark dwarves of the deep? That is helpful. Tell me, Elves, what will you do now with your freedom? We seek those aligned with the Cagewrights and anything you can do to point us in their direction would be appreciated."
"Yes Doctor, sending the people unprotected to the monkey and demon filled jungle surrounding Cauldron is a brilliant plan," Dyrant retorts. "Of course, Doctor evacuating the city is not a bad idea, just not one we can waste time doing. We either need to commit to finding the Cagewrights or evacuating the town. I, for one, will push to find the Cagewrights. Of course, your efforts to increase panic among the populace are appreciated too."
He takes a deep breath and continues after a moment, "Or if we can't help her now, let's start the hunt! What should we look for? I've a spell that might help, but we need a specific and general place to look for."
Dyrant smiles at Atol.
"Tomorrow, Atol. Tomorrow, at the very least. Once we finish these interviews , I shall take me and Glim to provision ourselves for the task ahead. In the event that it takes me more time that I hoped, I trust you will free these last souls and interrogate them appropriately," Dyrant says.
"I trust you, Atol. You've become a mighty servant of St. Cuthbert and your service to the crumpled hat is noted. No other has served so well or for so long. We will trust you to hold Cauldron until we return."
Toffitt sighs. "Dyrant, I agree, the Cagewrights are our job, and we must act urgently. The boy and the others are facing the knife as we speak." He pauses, at a loss for words.
I failed the boy, as I did Lukhaj. And now I must wait more while we equip ourselves, sitting on my hands. Terrem will die, and who knows how many others while we shop.
He gives a pleading look to his four companions. "If we must pause to equip ourselves, then I believe those who remain should rally the city to protect itself and remove the vulnerable from harms way. Do what we can, as time permits... What do you say?"
Glimmil's head bobs happily as Brother Cupshigh relates his tale about Vhalantru, yet he is unable to refrain from interjecting and updating his fellow gnome on the current state of the beholder, Cauldron and Jzadirune.
As Dyrant proposes the gnome finds Skie, Glimmil begins bobbing his head up and down.
"Yes, yes! You should go find Skie, she can help outfit you for--"
Yet, as Dyrant continues to explain Skie could outfit him to flee the city, Glimmil waves his hands and shakes his head.
"No, no! A brave Glitterguard would never turn his tail in the face of danger! In fact, Danger is Garl's middle name! Right?"
Glimmil shares a conspiratorial elbowing with his fellow gnome, and provides proper introduces to Shanna Goldanna, Randle Monty and the rest of the gnome leadership with Jzadirune, explaining how the tallfolk seem to be taking up arms to defend their homes, and certainly the gnomes should be doing the same.
The last person freed from stone says little other than thank you before taking her leave as the party debates what is best for the citizenry of Cauldron.
With all of those turned to stone returned to the flesh, but Celeste still trapped, a portion of the party pops over to Grayhawk for items not in Skie's inventory.
The party is together once again by early afternoon. Tension fills the city as only an occasional person wanders the mostly empty streets. A few families busily pack wagons with family treasures, but most homes are shut up tightly. Packs of guards rather than the usual pairs patrol the streets. Cauldron feels ready to erupt.
"Couldn't we simply free Celeste by use of an antimagic field? Hm. Where could we find one of those now that the beholder is dead..."
. . . . .
After waiving goodbye to Dyrant and Glimmil, Toffitt surveys the empty streets with concern. Tis good that so many would defend the city, but with what? There aren't enough holy weapons to go around. I haven't even got one. Their arms'd be better against Dyrant's monkeys. If only we... His eyes light up, and he rushes off to find Atol.
"Ah, there you are. Listen, I've a thought. Would you or Sister Jenya be able to do a sending today? I thought we might send a missive to the Chisel in Redgorge. I'm not sure how you feel about them at this point, but it may be that Maavu or his compatriots would be willing to give our elderly and children refuge. They're far more organized than our guard. Perhaps they could send an escort." He chews his lip for a moment. "I would be much more able to focus on our task if I knew we'd done our utmost to seek help."
"Alas I do not. That slot is in high demand today and Sending didn't make the cut. High Priestess Jenya Urikas may have a casting today I do not know. Tell me what you want to say, and I shall respectfully ask her on your behalf."
In the morning, a few errands aside, Atol spends the rest of his time at Vhalentru's manor, searching for any other possible survivors (maybe in other paintings) and generally guarding the place.
When the Greyhawkers return, Atol happily puts on his new purchases and girds himself for battle.
He looks expectantly to the others. "Where to?"
"Ah, yes. High Priestess. My apologies. What other words does one use. 'Her Holiness'? As for the message... How about... 'Cauldron faces calamity. Children and elders need refuge. The Cauldron Five ask: 'Will you send a retinue and give refuge?' Your friendship is much valued.'"
. . . . .
Toffitt joins the party at the appointed time, and grateful receives his purchases. "I believe you're to lead us there, Atol. You are, as it were, our pathfinder."
Finneas nods at the children and sets them to work about the temple, learning to clean and the ways of Kord.
*************
"I'll ride to Redgorge, Doctor. I've little else to do right now and the children are cleaning the temple. The town isn't far and I could make it there easily."
"Ah. That may work much better, Finn, though would it not take a day to get there?"
"Children, you say? New acolytes to Kord, eh? Well done. Well done indeed."
Upon returning to Cauldron and rejoining the others, Glimmil leans over and ties the laces of his shiny new winged shoes. Standing, he keeps his right foot ahead as if to show off his new purchase.
"Shoes. With wings!"
After pacing a bit to try them out, Glimmil stands near an open window and looks out upon the city.
"It's cold. And quiet. Like something is coming?"
Dyrant takes Glim to Greyhawk for the shopping and for selling what Skie could not buy. He will work with the St. Cuthbertines in Greyhawk, using Aralynn and whatever authorities he can muster to aid in the quick procurement.
On the next day, he will Gr. Teleport the two of them back.
Possibly due in part to Toffitt's inquiries and Glimmil's rallying of the gnomes, the remaining leaders of Cauldron have agreed to meet this afternoon at the town hall to discuss the future of Cauldron. A new mayor needs to be elected as the last one has not been found. There is also the disposition of the estates of Lord Vhalantru and Lady Rhiavadi.
Jenya will be in attendance and Finneas receives an invitation as the head of the church of Kord. Several other churches aside from Wee Jas are invited. Lord Taskerhill, Lady and Lord Vanderboren, and Lord Aslaxin and Lady Knowlern will also be in attendance. Meerthan secures an invite for the Striders and even the Chisel is represented by Maavu.
Dyrant rolls his hands down his clothes, trying to get them less wrinkled and more respectable looking. His new hat, on the other hand, he takes and adds several new creases. The new hat was all the rage amongst the St. Cuthbertines of Greyhawk and Dyrant look the time to purchase two.
When he sees Atol, he will had over the second crumpled hat in a makeshift ceremony, explaining how the purpose behind the hat and how it came to be.
"...so you see, Atol. The hat defines and represents the Cuthbertine faith. Just as...blahblah...St. Ulliver the Tardy wore one when he was eaten by sand gobl--...blahblah...crumpled, not crumbled, Atol...blahlblah...which was the style at the time," Dyrant explains while handing over the grey and white crumpled hat that matches his own.
As he waits expectantly for Atol to don his grey apparel, Dyrant wonders who else will be attending the Mayor's meeting.
Toffitt seeks out Mahvu and his Strider friends prior to the gathering, wanting to get a sense of his agenda. He exchanges pleasantries and asks them what they intend to do in defense of the city and to protect those who cannot fight.
Dyrant looks forward to the meeting but take procautions for his own safety.
He will cast prying eyes, asking them to settle outside and around the meeting area and report back if anything non-humanoid approaches. Aralynn will be hovering above, keeping a more thoughtful and intelligent watch. Dyrant hopes that Glim will track any evil within the meeting itself.
In addition, he will have Extended See Invisibility, Heroism, and Gr. False Life active.
He will whisper to Atol.
"Be ready, Atol. If the Cagewrights seek to attack us, this would be a good time to do it. We must be cautious."
In the meeting room himself, he will frequently check for scrying, using detect magic as necessary for there is little trust.
Glimmil prepares for the meeting by gobbling up an extra helping of his mom's baked goods, providing Cog an extra serving as well - somehow finding himself hungrier than usual as if the teleportation relied upon draining some of his personal energy to complete.
As he stands watch as the town's leaders assemble, he fidgets with his platinum band and wonders who he should provide it to this morning.
Toffitt wears his best finery to the meeting. As the attendees are gathering, he consumes an extract to enhance his senses , keeping his eye out for trouble. He stands with Finneas and gives pleasant greetings to the various dignitaries.
When he sees Atol, he will had over the second crumpled hat in a makeshift ceremony, explaining how the purpose behind the hat and how it came to be.
"...so you see, Atol. The hat defines and represents the Cuthbertine faith. Just as...blahblah...St. Ulliver the Tardy wore one when he was eaten by sand gobl--...blahblah...crumpled, not crumbled, Atol...blahlblah...which was the style at the time," Dyrant explains while handing over the grey and white crumpled hat that matches his own.
As he waits expectantly for Atol to don his grey apparel, Dyrant wonders who else will be attending the Mayor's meeting.
Atol dons the hat and pushes it around his head a little. "We, er, I'm not a Chapeaux, I'm a Billet you know. Our church is a Billet church." He fiddles with his hat a little more taking it off, stretching it a little and putting it back on.
"This is a very fine hat though. And all the way from Greyhawk itself!" He fidgets with the hat a little more and lets it rest, for now, upon his head and a little to one side. "Thank you Dyrant."
- - -
Assuming the party is invited to the event, Atol goes in his usual adventurers garb, though he does brush the latest crumbs off his clothes. He tries to find a seat centrally, so he can, with a little luck, cure the most people (everyone?) in a channel energy in the event of an area attack.
Dyrant scratches his ass, getting one last good one in before the meeting starts.
News has spread quickly through Cauldron and people fill the streets surrounding the town hall as the party approaches. City guards uneasily mix with several groups of house guards to try and keep the peace. Well, the city guards are trying to keep the peace, while the house guards are doing their best to keep the riff raff away from their lords and ladies.
Toffitt consumes some liquid courage as he approaches the crowd . He makes his way effortlessly through the crowd, and calls out to the crowd. "My good people, you've the word of the Cauldron Five: We shall forge a plan that protects our city and attends to the needs of those in need. Please give the guard your cooperation." He places himself next to one of the more aggressive house guards and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Let us all join together in the defense of Cauldron, for there is great might in our collective arms."
Atol pushes his way through the crowd, "Excuse me... pardon me... coming through... excuse me." until he gets wise and waits for Finneas - then he simply follows along in his wake.
We created this crowd with our cries of doom and gloom. I hope they don't turn hostile. They're already fearful and there's nothing they can do. They're relying on us.
Atol frowns as he makes his way into the building.
Glimmil stands tall, an easy task for him given his towering height among gnomekind - a full inch and a half taller than the typical gnomish resident of Cauldron.
He glances with some comfort at the platinum band around Skie's finger, knowing it will ensure he can better protect her.
And because I liked it, I should'a put a ring on it...
Glimmil smiles, although his satisfaction quickly disappears as he realizes he should be keeping a weathered eye out for Ellywinkle.
He places himself next to one of the more aggressive house guards and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Let us all join together in the defense of Cauldron, for there is great might in our collective arms."
The woman continues to stare into the crowd while brushing Toffitt's hand off her shoulder. She glares at the crowd while whispering at Toffitt, "I'd keep your hand to yourself if you want to keep it attached to yourself."
As the crowd settles a bit, she does offer a slight smile though.
Dyrant looks forward to the meeting but take procautions for his own safety.
Dyrant's paranoia proves unfounded this time. No monsters lurk on the rooftops and none of the citizens are actually demons in disguise. It's just a bunch of scared people on the verge of panic and despair desperate for hope and answers.
Toffitt smiles and murmurs. "Rest assured, officer, my hand shan't stray far from your shoulder. Unless you should need your hand sewn back on after the coming struggles. Then you'll have my utmost skills as a chirurgeon at your disposal." He makes some room in the crowd for Atol and Dyrant to pass.
The KiK's (Kids of Kor) as they've taken to calling themselves are reluctant to let Finneas leave so soon, but also know it is not their place to question him. Elliott dons his ill-fitting armor and offers to join Finneas to help watch his back.
"I know I won't be much help against demons or devils or dragons, but I can tell you when someone is sneaking up behind you. I won't be in the way at all. I promise."
Martha watches from the temple's entry hall where she has the younger kids organized into groups to clean the temple. She shouts above the scrubbing of stones and splashes of water, "I can keep an eye on things here. These walls should protect us from the usual dangers of the city. As for the unusual dangers, I doubt we're any safer anywhere else right now." She ends by saying, "I'm sure he'd be fine with you," and leaves unspoken the fact that Elliot would be out of her way.
Toffitt smiles and murmurs. "Rest assured, officer, my hand shan't stray far from your shoulder. Unless you should need your hand sewn back on after the coming struggles. Then you'll have my utmost skills as a chirurgeon at your disposal." He makes some room in the crowd for Atol and Dyrant to pass.
The woman pats Toffitt on the back. "I like you. Some people just shrivel up when I talk to them." She smiles at Toffitt while shoving a citizen backwards.
"Give us some space why don't you!"
Glimmil's gleaming armor seems to keep the crowds at bay almost as well as the guards. The occasional kid tries to get close enough to see himself in it, but otherwise Glimmil proceeds through the crowd unmolested. There are a few gnomes in the crowd, but none of them are the one he fears--or hopes--will be there. Of course not, because she's just inside the door to the meeting hall.
"Glimmil!" She barely finishes the name before engulfing him in a hug faster than any grappling creature he's ever met. It's short-lived though as Ellywinkle makes her rounds of the party before finally finishing with Finneas. She stares up into his eyes and asks in her voice that could be mistaken for an archon, "Miss me?"
Finneas looks at Elliott with some amusement, remembering himself at that age, almost a foot taller and 50 pounds heavier.
"Alright, let's go. But you run at the first sight of trouble. I've died a couple times now, it's no good."
Elliott gulps and unconsciously adjusts his armor to better cover some gaps. "A couple of times? Did it hurt?"
After a few seconds his eyes open wide and he cautiously asks, "Did you meet Kord?"
With a *pop*, Glimmil's weapon is ready.
Then, sheepishly, he realizes, despite his heart leaping out and through his mouth, it's no eye-monster or demon he faces, but simply Ellywinkle's voice.
Detecting a scent of bubblegum that lingers in the air, Glimmil frets for a moment that it may attach to his armor and follow him around all afternoon. However, he finds some relief as Ellywinkle continues past him to stop and stare up at Finneas with her doe eyes.
As he relaxes, he wills his hook-hammer to return to it's magical place.
Glimmil makes a mental note to inquire why a really tall, armored gnome is following Finneas around.
Wait! Under all that armor, is that a tall gnome, or a boy?
Possibly due in part to Toffitt's inquiries and Glimmil's rallying of the gnomes, the remaining leaders of Cauldron have agreed to meet this afternoon at the town hall to discuss the future of Cauldron. A new mayor needs to be elected as the last one has not been found. There is also the disposition of the estates of Lord Vhalantru and Lady Rhiavadi.
Jenya will be in attendance and Finneas receives an invitation as the head of the church of Kord. Several other churches aside from Wee Jas are invited. Lord Taskerhill, Lady and Lord Vanderboren, and Lord Aslaxin and Lady Knowlern will also be in attendance. Meerthan secures an invite for the Striders and even the Chisel is represented by Maavu.
A dozen chairs ring a large rectangular wooden table in the middle of the town hall's central room. Lord Taskerhill sits at the head of the table looking quite comfortable. He sips a glass of red wine as he talks quietly with the young Lady Aeberrin and Lord Premiach Vandeborn on his right. Lord Aslaxin sits on Lord Taskerhill's left an says little.
At the midpoint of the table sits Jenya and her friend, Lady Ophella Knowlern. Across from them sits Maavu and Meerthan. Two petite seats remain at the end of the table. Ellywinkle sits comfortably in one and Lord Taskerhill gestures to Finneas to sit in the other.
"My apologies, sir, but we are not accustomed to people as large as yourself sitting at the table."
Toffitt frowns minutely at Taskerhill's nonchalance in the face of the city's potential doom. He takes up a position at Finneas' right shoulder. Wherefore are we consulting with these idiots? To save those vulnerable people for whom they have no regard? Were I a beholder, I'd be tempted to disintegrate most of them. He puts on a placid affect and nods at Maavu.
Atol looks at the leadership in the town so assembled. A good group. Clearly concerned for the future of our town or they wouldn't be here, but not nearly as 'sky is falling!' as we. Very wise - no sense in bringing panic to the streets until we know what exactly we're up against.
Atol fiddles with his pack and takes out a muffin. He eats it stump first like a little cake.
I don't know why we're here really. We should be hunting in the sewers not casually speaking with the nobles. They have their job and we have ours.
He looks at Finneas in his new position as leader of the church. Well, excepting him of course.
He thinks about Finneas a long while, ruler of a whole plane, leader of his church in Cauldron, warrior beyond compare. A good man, he decides.
Glimmil hesitates from entering into the town hall's main meeting room. If there's one thing he fears more than Ellywinkle, it's within this room.
Not politics - but something politics causes for Glimmil.
Boredom.
Grinning awkwardly, he manages a half-salute before turning on his heel and taking up a position near the doors where he does his best impression of a guard.
Dyrant enters the room, looking nicer than usual having changed into his dress garments (the Cusp of Sunrise clothes). He nods politely to the assembled personage, introducing himself to those who might not know him and those he does not recognize.
"Ah good, Jenya is here, Atol. It is good that the true Church is represented here. The Cudgel's wisdom will be given and heard," Dyrant says as he sees Jenya in attendance.
He mentally reviews his preparations, entrusting his eyes and Aralynn to warn of incoming danger.
Without apology or explanation, he will cast Detect Magic and survey the room and the attendees.
We don't have much time for this. The next attack could happen at any time.
Dyrant awaits the meeting to start, wondering who will be leading.
"It seems as if everyone has arrived. Let us begin."
"Welcome to my fellow nobles, to the leaders of the great churches of Cauldron, and to our other honored guests."
Lord Taskerhill raises his goblet and toasts all of those at the table.
"For too long we have lived with our eyes closed to the turmoil around us. We must open our eyes to the friends that are nearby and the enemies that lurk just as close." He peers past those who are seated, past those who are standing, and into the shadowy corners of the room.
"The people have placed their trust in fools and monsters. It is a time for change. It is a time for a new mayor."
With a firm thud, Lord Taskerhill puts his goblet down and looks around the table. There are several shouts of agreement before things settle down.
Dyrant keeps quiet, his mind far away on ways to find a way to save Cauldron.
Toffitt shakes his head and speaks. "If you'll forgive me: It is true that Cauldron requires strong leadership in this moment. It needs leaders who can command the guard with strength, and rally those citizens who would defend it against what comes. It needs leaders who can usher the vulnerable to safety in all haste. We haven't time to install a new government. We must act now. Today. This hour."
"We five must go to face those who would summon demons into our fair city. Tell us you are attending to the people's safety forthwith, and we shall do our duty with greatly eased concern." He bows slightly, attempting to make his impertinence good with a gesture.
Finneas watches the proceedings, nothing to say as of yet.
Glimmil peeks back in the room and follows Taskerhill's gaze into the shadowy corners of the room.
He narrows his eyes and gives Cog a nod.
Around the room, many heads nod at Toffitt's words. Lord Taskerhill is the first to speak though. "You are absolutely right, sir. We must act now to install a new government. Let's be quick about it and you and your friends can find those that threaten our safety. We will take care of the citizens."
Lord Taskerhill turns to his right and nods to Lord Vandeborn who in turn quickly follows with, "Then I nominate you, sir. Lord Taskerhill for mayor."
Lady Aeberrin follows quickly with, "I second the motion."
"All in favor?" asks Lord Taskerhill.
---
Glimmil does not detect any evil.
Dyrant coughs, seeking his voice.
"A question before we get to voting. Lord Taskerhill, I would know more about your intents as Mayor. And furthermore, how is your daughter and the rest of the Stormblades? Would they willing to help us?"
Toffitt nods at Dyrant's question.
This is awkward. We've just deposed the tyrant behind the last mayor, and could as easily depose Taskerhill, if it were our way. Let us assess first.
"Yes, knowledge of your plans would also ease our minds in the coming battle." Though Aralynn can just ask St. Cuthbert if he will be a mayor of good intent and action.
