Joanna come back here, you're badly wounded. Let me help you, let me heal you. You tried to talk them out of attacking us. At least this one isn't a threat for innocent people anymore. You've done the right thing, don't worry.
The white haired priestess uses her magic to cure some of Joanna wounds
Joanna stops, and turns around. Her gray eyes are dark and her shoulders are slumped.
"Arsith, I—" she begins, but just shakes her head.
"Thank you, and you as well Shadlah. I'd probably be dead or close to it without the two of you," she says instead. "Let's go get the watch. We're late as it is, and we need to report this."
Leaving the smashed body of the thief behind them, Joanna and her friends stagger from the tight confines of the alleyway and go in search of representatives of the law... making their way along the packed streets, they eventually find a pair of city watch guards. Seeing the friends, and concerned about Joanna's blood-stained clothes, they immediately come to Joanna's aid...
Listening to the friend's tale as to what has happened, about the ambush from Creska and Jaskerr, the violence initiated by the thieves... and the death of Creska at Shadlah's hands. For a moment, it seems that the guards are going to detain the Shoanti, "Rules are the Rules miss... testimony says you took someone's life... a judge will have to say whether you did the right thing or not".
...but, when the friends lead the watch back to the alleyway, the dead thief... Creska's crumpled body... has gone. Shrugging, the guards let the matter lie, "Seems their ain't no case to answer here... we'll keep an eye for the catfolk thief - but the way I see it, no body... no crime. Seems you folks should probably be on your way... and stick to the main streets".
Finally able to make their way to their rendezvous, well over an hour late, the group arrive at the Shield and Sheepdog.
Joanna draws upon another spark of divine power to finish binding her wounds. Once the light fades, all that's left of the attacks that landed on her are a scratch on her shoulder and her side.
As they walk, Joanna's shoulders remain in their slump.
"Well, it looks like I need to ask Briana or Zee if they can fix the tears and get the blood out. I might as well start carrying around a spare set of clothes the way things are going," she grumbles. "I really like this outfit, too."
An hour late, Joanna walks in with Shadlah and Arsith, letting the two of them go first in the hopes of hiding the bloodstains behind them. When they reach the table Briana, Teldon, and Zee are sitting at, the three of them can clearly see the bloodstains and tears in Jo's clothing. Despite the signs of having been badly wounded, the young paladin is in good health, if not good cheer.
"Sorry we're late," she apologizes. "We ran into trouble."
"Not anymore, I think," Joanna answers as she sits down. "We got ambushed by a couple of thieves. Arsith got hurt, and I think they scratched Shadlah, before they ganged up on me. If it hadn't been for them, I probably would have been dead or dying in that alley now."
"You will be fine," Shadlah states in her normal, matter-of-fact tone, though her voice is softer than usual. "We would not have let them hurt you further. I am sorry I could not make them leave sooner."
As the guards move to detain Shadlah, she starts backwards, arms raised defensively, a flash of marble white darting across her skin as she instinctively reaches to the stone beneath her. She only relaxes after several minutes have passed. By the time the group makes it to the Sheepdog, she's more worried about Joanna's state, though visibly uncertain of how to best calm her.
"It was barely even a scratch," she shrugs. "When your skin is hard as stone, it is easy to avoid harm."
We were careless, and paid the price. We should be more cautious next time.
Arsith, seeing that Jo is still troubled by the recent event, nearly take her in her arms for a long hug, but stops herself, with difficulty, not daring anymore to show some affection.
Turning her face away and hiding her eyes under the white hood of her hair, the warpriest try to compose herself
Lets have a drink, and something to eat.
She sits and ask for some strong liquor.
The arrival of Joanna, Arsith and Shadlah at the Shield and Sheepdog barely draws any interest from the patrons sat around the bar... it seems that here, in Beacon's Point, being battered and bruised is merely part of everyday life. Even the barmaid who saunters over to ask whether any food or drink is required does little more than offer a slightly sympathetic smile...
At Brianna's question, Zee's expression turns a bit wistful. "How long do I plan to be a Pathfinder? I don't know. I don't foresee ever settling down in one place for long. I like the prospect of seeing things no one has ever seen before, following forgotten paths, and bringing the past to light. I don't yet see the destination, but that's okay. It's the journey that is important. I find much appeal in the life of a Pathfinder. I'll stay with them for as long as its goals and mine align. You see..."
That's when Rowena darts out from under the table and runs around the restaurant. She grins and shakes her head at the cat's antics... and at Brianna's antics chasing her cat. "Ea urmăriri șoareci spectral!"
As Brianna and Rowena return to the table, she says, "As a girl, we had cats in our caravan. They would often chase things only they can see." She then glances up to see their wayward friends arrive. She waves at them, but then her expression turns serious. She rises and quickly strides toward them.
"What happened, my friends?! Come, sit, have a drink..." She beckons a serving wench to bring bread and more wine.
"If any of you need more healing, I can ask for a blessing from the Starsong. Or, I could use this..." She takes out the party's wand of cure light wounds from her satchel.
Teldon smiles at Rowenna's antics and asks the server to bring a small bowl of warmed cream along with the other drinks.
Perhaps that will calm her nerves, as the wine does for the human women...
He listens intently to the story of the thieves' attack and then asks, "Did it seem like you were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time, or is it possible they were targeting you? I mean, either way it's unfortunate but you don't suppose we've angered another Sczarni gang or something, do you?"
"I don't think they were after me, or any of us. They had the drop on us, and only attacked when I tried to talk our way out," Joanna answers Teldon. "I didn't want to fight them, and though they hurt Arsith and almost killed me, we're fine. Thanks to Arsith's help, I've just got a couple of scratches on me," she adds, shifting her shoulder to show the red scratch, all that remained of the wound where one of the thieves had tore into her arm.
"I'm actually more worried about my outfit right now than I am about me. I don't want to go about the city covered in my blood, and I want to try and get this one fixed and clean, but I don't know if any of you has any spells that can mend and clean my clothes, and I don't feel like standing around in my undies while a laundress washes them," the young paladin says with a rueful expression on her face. "Wish I had a spare change of clothes right now."
I wonder how hard it would really be to learn a cantrip or two... prestidigitation would be a handy thing to be able to do, and probably would be enough to help Jo right now...
"I'm sorry, Jo," Teldon answers, "I could help you if we bought an appropriate scroll, but it would be quicker, and probably cheaper, to just buy a new outfit..."
"I guess it couldn't hurt. Do you mind waiting a few minutes," Joanna asks. "I think there's a shop a couple of doors down from here, and I'd hate to trouble all of you with this."
The young paladin stands up and heads outside. She turns left and finds the shop she remembered seeing, Ibbleting's Stitches 'n' Things. She heads inside and a few minutes and a few gold later, she walks out in a white tunic with a blue vest and skirt. A black belt with silver buckle around her waist and a black hat on her head. In her left hand is a bag that contains the bloodstained outfit she'd worn before, along with the empty sheath of her dagger.
Joanna returns barely ten minutes after leaving, a bag in her hand and a new outfit on. As she sits down, she looks to Arsith and Shadlah.
"Do either of you know what happened to my dagger," she asks, a little confused.
With an apologetic look, Zee shrugs her shoulders at her friend's question. "I'm sorry, Joanna. I know of the spell you ask about, but that sort of magic isn't in my area of expertise."
"Never hurts to ask, does it," Joanna says with a more normal sounding chuckle, "Well, guess I better get going, be back in a few minutes."
Shadlah glances up from her ale and carving as Jo returns in her new clothes, eyes shifting briefly to her own assortment of leather and linen wraps. "Perhaps you left your dagger in the alley," she says, pushing back from the table and standing as she finishes her drink. "I will go with you to search, if it is what you wish."
The friends, having experienced varied fortunes during the morning, spend a relaxed lunch together… catching up on each other’s adventures, a good hour - along with a hearty meal - passes. So engrossed they are with their stories, that the friends fail to notice the approaching tapping of a cane against the stone floor… a cough, politely interjected into the briefest of pauses in the conversation, announces the arrival of Unselm Oldurac. As pale and stooped as he appeared back at the Heidmarch lodge, he waits for an invitation to sit.
…and then, setting his cane to one side, ”Lady Heidmarch has asked me to assist you… if you will have me? I believe you seek Jasper Kandamerus? A troubled soul indeed… even amongst the most wretched of those that call Beacon’s Point home, he must surely be considered the least connected to the reality of here and now”. There is genuine empathy in Unselm’s voice…
”Well… if you are finished here, we should make a move. Kandamerus was, the last I heard, preaching about the end times to anyone who would listen down at Rag’s End… if he is still plying his prophecy there, it should not take us too long to track him down. On his ‘best’ days, he can draw a bit of a crowd”.
…and so, making their way back into the streets of Beacon’s Point, the friends make their way through the crowds - making slower progress as a larger group and with Unselm’s more laboured walking pace, it still takes little more than quarter of an hour for the friends to arrive at what must surely be their destination. Unselm notices it first… ”Listen…”
A raspy voice shouting from beyond a curve in the street, “Woe! Woe unto thee, O Magnimar, for oblivion approaches and thy lamentations shall drown out the sounds of the sea! The Great Whore straddles a two-headed beast and rides this way, sowing the contaminated seeds of her blasphemies as she draws nearer. Weep! Weep, O Generation of the Damned, for none shall escape the pitiless scythe of oblivion. Heed my warning and turn to Groetus! Grasp this mortal hand I offer and we shall march into the void together!”
"No, it's fine. It was just a dagger," Joanna replies, "besides, someone probably already grabbed it, and getting stabbed once today was more than enough for me." She says with a forced chuckle, which quickly fades as she notices that it's not fooling anyone.
"Let's just pretend I said something funny there and forget what I actually said," she mutters meekly before focusing on her meal.
Joanna scooches over to make room and grabs another chair for Unselm. She wants to offer to help the man after they leave the Shield and Sheepdog, but doesn't know how to do it without injuring the man's pride. It appears, though, that he didn't need it, and soon she can hear the voice of doom and gloom that Unselm had heard.
"Well, shall we? Should one of us lead, or do you think he'd respond better to a familiar face," she asks Unselm.
Arsith was keeping quiet during the meal, mostly listening, sometimes drinking and eating.
When they finally go for a post meal stroll, to meet the mad prophet, she concentrates to remember everything she can about Groetius
Jasper is a wild-haired bearded man clad in patchwork rags and, hanging by his side, equipped with a heavy flail with skull-shaped heads, ranting in a stentorian tenor at any who care to listen... and today, it seems that very few in Beacon's Point are interested in his preaching. Standing on an upturned crate, he rants and raves to a crowd that barely notices him as they go about their daily business...
As Jasper notices the friends he pauses in his sermon and stares in their direction with a look of jubilant awe before he bellows exultantly, “Behold! The Blessed Ushers of the End Times! The Holy Escorts of Oblivion! Soldiers of the Void, champions of mighty Groetus himself!”
Arsith, from her time as a Pharasmin, knows Groetus well.
"Indeed we are," Teldon answers the prophet extending his hand in greeting, "we have need of your aid, herald, is there somewhere more private we can talk?"
Zee exchanges glances with her friends and sighs in annoyance at the proclamation that her group is affiliated with Groetus. She recalls her assessment of followers of Groetus.
She whispers to Joanna, "We're supposed to work with this lunatic...?"
But just as the words leave her mouth, Teldon steps forward in greeting.
Oh... Play along with the madman...
She then whispers, "Well played, my friend!" She changes her demeanor from annoyed to an air of mystery.
Wild, staring eyes fix upon Teldon, "My aid? I am naught but an empty vessel through which the decaying hours of this land are announced... what aid could I provide you?"
Teldon has little time to reply before another voice calls from across the street, “Oi! You filthy beggar! We’ve had jus’ about enough of your mad racket, scarin’ honest merchants, frightenin’ away customers with your gloomy twaddle!” Striding through the crowd, four men - each clad in cracked leather armor and wielding a stout club - move towards Kandamerus with barely disguised aggression. The lips and the corners of the thug's mouths are stained a peculiar black and the pupils of their eyes are widely dilated.
...Kandamerus, seeing the men, makes no attempt to respond to their calls - nor does he make any indication of using the impressive flail at his belt.
In a voice loud enough to warn her friends, but not so loud as to draw undue attention, Zee says, "Careful—Those men are pesh addicts, and are under its spell."
"Get him out of here. I'll stall them," Joanna whispers to Zee befor she moves between the thugs and Kandamerus with a beaming smile on her face.
"Gentlemen, I'm sure that while you are quite capable of handling this man yourselves, there's no need to be involved in this affair. My companions can handle this and we'll have him out of your hair in a moment," she says affably.
"Come with me, vessel," Teldon says gently grabbing the man's arm and attempting to stear him away from the ruffians, "and I will tell you exactly what sacred task Groetus has appointed for you."
As Teldon ushers a suddenly lucid Kandamerus away from his impromptu stage, the club wielding thugs start to charge after him, "Oi!!! E's gonna get what comin' ter 'im... 's abaht time that 'e stopped 'is pronouncements an' left us all ter get on with ahr bizzniss"
The first of the men to run at Kandamerus is suddenly caught by Briana's words, slurring a response as his eyes focus on a spot some fifteen feet beyond the shaman, "S'pose not miss... Mebbe we could let 'im be... Or, mebbe... Mebbe I should just sit down 'ere for a moment"
...the other men, seeing their friend acting strangely, spit at the floor in disgust... vile black gobbets of saliva splashing on the cobbles, "Come on boys!!! Gotta show the guild what we're worth... Get 'im!!!"
"First thieves, now addicts," Shadlah mutters, shaking her head. Allowing the earth and stone to flood back to her body, she spreads her hands, slams one fist into the other palm, and sends a barrage of earthen shards at the nearest addict.
The barrage of stone from Shadlah slams into one of the charging addicts, shredding his clothing and carving a nasty gash across his chest... but it is not enough to stop him, nor his companions, in their bravado-filled charge against the retreating Kandamerus.
Whooping and hollering, the thugs crash into Kandamerus and Teldon... narcotics and enthusiasm fuelling the ferocity of their attacks...
Staggering beneath the brutal attack, Kandamerus brings his hands up to fend off the blows... but, reeling, the savagery of the thugs has knocked him to the brink of unconsciousness...
Teldon scowls in a mix of anger and pain. With a practiced eye, he studies his drug addled opponent while imbuing his shortsword with a spark of arcane energy. When he sees an opening in addicts sloppy defenses, he thrusts his blade forward...
,
Unarmed, unarmored, and not really wanting to fight, Joanna did think of one thing she could do. With a couple of strides, she tosses the empty sheath for her dagger, aiming for the back of the leader's head. After getting their attention, Joanna tries a different tack to get them to leave Kandamerus alone.
"HEY! You brainless morons! I said leave him alone," she shouts as loud as she can while planning her flight through the crowd when they came after her.
Arsith joins the melee, fighting alogside Teldon, but her attack is as clumsy as it can get.
Maybe she shouldn't have drinked that much at the inn...
Teldon's shoulders droop in disappointment as Arsith somehow manages an attack that is even less effective than his own...
"Stop that, wretches!" Invoking the power of The Waxworks, Zee casts a spell to immobilize one of the thugs attacking Kandamerus.
Caught by mesmerising gazes from Briana and Ziomarra, two of the thugs are suddenly caught with their clubs ready to bludgeon Kandamerus... and with the first of the rogues staring at Briana awaiting some kind of instruction, only one of the attackers remains... ducking past Teldon, he slams his club over Kandamerus' head - collapsing, the wild-haired man slumps against a wall with blood seeping from the inflicted wound...
Shouting in delight, the attacker runs back towards the crowd, "Come on lads!!! That showed 'im!!! The Night Scales will sit up and take notice of the Black Kiss Boys now!!!"
Teldon tries again to stab the violent addict as he stabs the prophet and flees...
,
His anger and frustration growing, the usually cautious young adventurer charges after his assailant...
,
Seeing Teldon taking care of the last of the thugs, Joanna turns and rushes to help the stricken Kandamerus.
Feeling a little winded as her connection to the divine power of her goddess fades, she turns to the others.
"Do we have a way of tying them up," she asks, nodding at the immobilized and charmed thugs, "any rope or something like that?"