Merax feeling slightly ill, takes an empty chair and seats himself. He tries to briefly rest while examining his surroundings.
Perception:
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"Hail and welcome. Janiven, could you introduce us?" Caldazar gives Morisono a smile and ruffles his hair before moving to greet the other people here.
Janiven whistles to gain everyones attention and they look up brightly smiling and excited to see that she and her frends made it. She introduces each of them to you before allowing you to introduce yourselves.
She first gestures to a beautiful but plainly dressed Tianese girl.
”This is Amaya.” The girl blushes self consciously and gives a small wave.
Janiven then gestures towards a large young bearded man.
”This is Ermolos.”
The man waves and says ”Hail.”
Janiven then points at a small Halfling by the shrine.
”Fiosa.”
The Halfling smiles. ”Inheritor be with you.”
She then waves to a handsome lad with bright amber colored eyes. ”Gorvio”
The lad waves nervously.
”Larko”
A wiry tan skinned boy nods to you.
”Mathalen”
A tall wiry woman sits crosslegged on the floor with her eyes closed. At the mention of her name she slowly opens her eyes, nods respectfully, and continues her meditation.
”Rizzardo”
A massive brute of a man greets you. ”Hail”
”Sclavo”
The nervous man from the door smiles and waves at you.
”Tarvi”
A beautiful girl in fine clothes and jewelry nods curtly crossing her arms and revealing a large closed tome with her finger in it to serve as a bookmark.
”Vitti”
An odd little green haired human smiles manically and waves a woodcarving knife at you before going back to his little wooden rabbit sculpture.
”And..” Janiven sighs as she points almost accusingly at a gnome female. ”Yakopulio.”
The gnome gives you a rude gesture. ”Sup. Might I interest you fine gentleman in some nightly company?”
"Good eve fair folk. I am Caldazar Rothern, and forgive the smell but we had to take a circuitous route." smiling in a friendly fashion.
makes a strange rhythmic knock on what appears to be a boarded up door. The door creaks open slowly as a nervous man holding a lantern opens it.
"Tap..tap...Knock.taptaptap." Pollux's fingers nervously tap on his leg in the exact pattern of the secret knock.
Leaning his greataxe blade against the wall with a thud...
"Greetings one and all, I am Meraxilar Zoon. If I could just trouble you for a place where I might clean up abit, I would be most grateful."
"I am Tok."
Pollux tilts his head to one side as he contemplates the group. The flame lights seem to sink into the floor at his feet.
"I am Pollux ... and this is Castor"
The large rat pokes its head out of the sleeve of Pollux's robe.
"Cstor is a rat, mostly harmless unless you are concealing cheese about your person."
Looking about the temple.
"This is a lovely house you have stolen."
[/b]"Still" indicating the alter "the owner is dead so I don't suppose there is anyone who cares to much'[/b]
Pollux tilts his head to one side as he contemplates the group. The flame lights seem to sink into the floor at his feet.
"I am Pollux ... and this is Castor"
The large rat pokes its head out of the sleeve of Pollux's robe.
"Castor is a rat, mostly harmless unless you are concealing cheese about your person."
Looking about the temple.
"This is a lovely house you have stolen."[/b]"Still" indicating the altar "the owner is dead so I don't suppose there is anyone who cares to much"[/b]
A couple of the young people give Pollux and Janiven a look at his statement as she shrugs.
"Right, let's get these men cleaned up and fed. I'm going to go back and make sure no one followed us this far." Before anyone can protest Janiven disappears out of the door.
You are all fed (and bathed!) and given a chance to relax a bit. While the others help they continue their debate about what to call the group.
"I say the swords of Iomedae." Sclavo says. "It's reflective of our leader."
The tienese woman named Amaya shakes her head. "That sounds too militant. We need to be recognized as people of the city. Concerned citizens. Not invaders or terrorists. I say...the Children of Westcrown."
There seems to be some agreeance to the idea.
Pollux, and a very clean rat walk up to the debating group.
"What are you naming?"
Pollux, and a very clean rat walk up to the debating group.
"What are you naming?"
The gnome, who had been keeping quiet up to this moment sniffs. "They're naming the ragtag group of ours to be recognizable. If you ask me I think it's a waste of time."
She snorts sarcastically.
Vitti, the green haired man speaks up from his wood carving. "Nice rat. Oh I think Children of Westcrown is nice we should go with that."
"Deeds are more recognizable than names. Have you heard of the taking of your leader? The dottari detaining him precipitated our flight through the sewers."
Pollux, and a very clean rat walk up to the debating group.
"What are you naming?"
The gnome, who had been keeping quiet up to this moment sniffs. "They're naming the ragtag group of ours to be recognizable. If you ask me I think it's a waste of time."
She snorts sarcastically.
Vitti, the green haired man speaks up from his wood carving. "Nice rat. Oh I think Children of Westcrown is nice we should go with that."
"It is not always good to be recognizable."
To Vitti,"Thank you that is a nice rabbit. What is it's name?"
"Deeds are more recognizable than names. Have you heard of the taking of your leader? The dottari detaining him precipitated our flight through the sewers."
An awkward hush falls over the group at the mention of Arael's capture.
For a moment only the sound of Vitti's carving can be heard.
Finnally Fiosa the halfling speaks up.
"I have faith Iomedae's watching over her faithful servant. He' strong willed and the Dottari don't like the hellknights much. Janiven's smart, she'll figure out how to get him out before the hellknights get him."
At the halflings small statement a bit of tension in the group is relased and Pollux's statement is answered by Gorvio.
"We were thinking about univforms, or soem kind of identifying mark, something that will distinguish us as part of a group but hide our identities. Cowls maybe? Hoods? We could all wear masks."
"I am not confident in my ability to disguise myself. I haven't seen too many other Dwarven followers of the Master here - no hood or mask will hide who I am."
Meraxilar rubs his beard seemingly amused by the naming of this group.
"Perhaps we should name ourselves "The Thrice-Blessed of Westcrown" or "The Bane of Thrune".
"I think 'Children' of Westcrown, was appropriate, Merax. I do not understand why you waste time naming and decorating yourselves when one of your own is held captive. Master guide me if I'm ever taken."
"We were thinking about uniforms, or some kind of identifying mark, something that will distinguish us as part of a group but hide our identities. Cowls maybe? Hoods? We could all wear masks."
Pollux considers for a moment and replies with a taint of glee in his voice. "That is a good idea. It will keep the Hellknights from having to hurt as many people while trying to find us."
"Perhaps we need wait on Janiven's return before we can talk of anything not related to names and fashion?
At Tok's remarks the group seems downtrodden. Obviously the news of their leaders capture has not hit easily.
It's at this point the group takes a long look at the now silent group of would be rebels and realize that while they have passion they have no skills. Indeed many of them are the children that Tok derided them for.
You see the potential for greatness in many of them and in at least one of them you see something of a younger version of yourself. They're young, inexperienced and in no shape to be storming a jail being watched like hawks by hellknights and dottari.
Eventually Vitti, finishing his rabbit carving and putting down his knife, speaks. "We're just not as skilled as you are. We've started out small but want to grow like an oak into something long lasting and strong with roots that run deep. Morisono told us about your run through the sewers."
"Yeah!" Ermolos, one of the much brawnier men, bellowed cheerfully. "Reminds me of the stories my old man told me of his adventuring days! I only wish I could have been there. He told us Tok here beat four men to death with his bare hands!"
Mathalen the woman apparently meditating looks up. "That's impressive."
...you see something of a younger version of yourself.
"Yes rabbit-man. Roots can crack stone and topple walls and the small are not always the losers. Look at Castor." Pollux points to the rat who is currently behind Vitti and making off with his carving knife. "Castor is small but in time the great and mighty will know to fear him."
Meraxilar angrily turns to Tok and pulls him to the side.
"And here I sit thinking I am the dark one. For all your discipline friend Tok, you seem to lack the passion. Is it too much of a chaotic emotion for you?"
Meraxilar sights yet continues.
"Here you see inexperienced younglings, but I see a blade in need of honing. You should not shake their confidence before they even have a chance to act."
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Mr. Ruttle, having taken this all in, relaxes and starts pacing, with a quick lecture.
"My partner Tok has it right, now is not the time for names. Indeed, be very careful when choosing a name, for they hold power. Now, certainly, the name of a group of mortals is of little consequence, not nearly as much as the name of a devil, but power it has. As long as you are nameless, you are formless, and even harder to grasp than the torbles we ran into earlier.
So, for now, we do not need a name, nor a uniform. We know who we are, and that is all that a name or uniform will bring us. Let the naming and uniform fall upon the people of Westcrown, if indeed the people of Westcrown is who you act for. If you must act against the prevailing power, let them first fear you, then name you.
Now, then, it appears that there are two courses of action that need to be attended to. First, there must be an improvement to the system used to reach this lair. We randomly encountered a bound shadow demon down there, were you aware of that? Unless you would like to simply say, 'Turn left at the denizen of terror,' there should be a way we learn about paths that avoid such unpleasantries.
However, Tok has identified the more important concern--that of Arael. What did he know, and how will the dottari rip that knowledge from him? Are we better off attempting a rescue, or is it better that we...write him off?"
Before the implications sink in too strongly, he quickly adds, "Morisono, tell us, what did you witness about the capture?"
He pulls a ledger out from beneath his coat, crosses over to near Tarvi, finds a place to set the ledger down, finds some ink, and records.
Merax walks over to the group of would-be rebels.
"I am sure Janiven has contacts that will bring us more information on the plight of our benefactor. Maybe an opportunity will present itself." After all Westcrown attracts all sorts of mayhem.
As sclivian speaks their some whispering and quiet gasps at the mention of the shadow demon and some impressed nods from others.
Vitti meanwhile mutters to himself as he searches for his carving knife.
Tarvi closes her book again her bracelets tinkling as she looks at Sclivian curiously. "With all due respect Mr. Ruttle I'm not sure you realize the nature of our enemy. It cannot stand to let things go shapeless or formless for long. If we do not name ourselves and give ourselves identity then those who would keep the status quo would find them for us. I think the term terrorist or villain come to mind. The Order of the Rack control information in this city and burn books in celebration of that control. If we must have a form I think it's best to give ourselves that form and allow others to make meaning of it rather than allow the Order of The Rack to do the task for us."
Tarvi sighs and opens the book back up, Sclivian can't help but notice it's a book on basic wizardry.
Morisono scrunches his face up in memory. "Um, I was with Arael and he had just finished talking to a amn, I never saw him I think. And then the dottari jumped him and that's when I hid behind some garbage, gods I was so scared, Arael didn't even put up a fight, I mean he had a sword and."
Amaya places a claiming hand on his shoulder adn he smiles at her before taking a deep breath and starting again.
"The dottari were picking him up when some hellknights walked up and tried to claim him and there was some arguing and the dottari took him I think and that's when I ran."
Vitti meanwhile mutters to himself as he searches for his carving knife.
"Here it is Mister Vitti. I am afraid Castor is overly fond of knives... blood, cheese, window latches, old books, walnuts, fire, opera, nutmeg, rum, flute music, the city of Katapesh, eggplants, and fine silk."
"..."
"..and raisins, apparently"
"Traitor lady? Will we be staying here, in the dead man's house?"
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There's a thinker among this group yet, they actually have a slight chance at survival, Sclivian thinks at Tarvi's response.
He smirks and responds, "Unfortunately, unless you have divined a method to alter the perceptions of the Order of the Rack, you will be called terrorists no matter what, should you act against the status quo. Call yourself the Peaceful Order of Forest Bunnies, and you'll find every rabbit in the province slaughtered in a fortnight. And, it will be important to recognize that whether they are fair or not, you will be acting illegally, and thus, will be criminals. No matter how strongly you believe your cause is just, your crime will be fact.
This, more than everything, will be the greatest challenge to yourselves. Who you are, and what you represent, will be destroyed before your very eyes," Sclivian continues, a tinge of mania in his voice. "Names, identities, they can be rendered meaningless in a simple stroke! Lives can change in an instant, truths may cease to be, and our definition will never transcend the labels they will be given unless they are true to yourself, inside!"
A bureaucrat's rage, tempered, subdued, but no less frighteningly filled with fury, subsumes the accountant's words as tears a page out of his ledger and brandishes it to the gathered. "Here, take a look. Read your names. Read your crimes. Know what the truth of this city is, and what it means. Now Tarvi, take this scroll. What can you do with this statement of fact?"
He pulls one more sheet out of a scroll case and hands it to Tarvi.
Tok is surprised by Merax's outburst. "We are sharpened not by coddling, but through trial and sharpness. I have little patience for children playing at rebellion. But, I will contribute what I can to seeing these become more than they are currently. Should my employer, Mr. Ruttle concur."
Tarvi takes the scroll as the others watch somewhat lost on the gestures symbolism. She looks curiously at the scroll, unfurling it and studying it carefully, referring to her book now and then as she mutter under her breath. After three false starts your heart quickens as the magic begins to form around her words and fingertips.
Suddenly Sclavo,who had been mostly silent since your arriv\ snatches the paper she was targeting causing her to lose her focus. She opens her mouth to utter some colorful curses when she spots that Sclavo has pulled out a pen of his own and is scribbling furiously on the page.
He slaps the paper down before the group with a passion and resolve you would not ahve previously expected of the man. He scrawled through the crimes that Sclivian listed markign them out or otherwise making them removed from the record. Underneath them all he put down one word "heroes".
"We make the facts irrelevant." Sclavo says. Self consciously he backs up as Tarvi just stares at him. Everyone, even the previously passive Mathalen watches with interest.
Tok is surprised by Merax's outburst. "We are sharpened not by coddling, but through trial and sharpness. I have little patience for children playing at rebellion. But, I will contribute what I can to seeing these become more than they are currently. Should my employer, Mr. Ruttle concur."
"We are sharpened by sharpness and children rebellion should Mr. Ruttle concur." "Mr. Ruttle are sharpened by rebellion children should we and sharpness concur."
Pollux wanders the temple. Lost in thought and the utterly arbitrary nature of meaning.
"A fine statement Sclavo, please do not misunderstand our intent. We wish to see the tyranny fail as well, though until we have more power we will need to show caution."
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With a quick look to Tok, Mr. Ruttle responds, "I concur."
He looks at Tarvi and Sclavo, sighs and nods. Wielding his quill, he adds, "You have the gist, Sclavo, but remember that you aren't the only one wielding the pen." He adds the word CRIMINALS to the document again. "Others will see you calling yourselves heroes. They will also see others calling you criminals. Be prepared to transcend those labels. You are quite simply... yourself."
He turns to Tarvi, and takes hold of the scroll again. "We'll try again, later," he says.
"My point is, if you wish to travel down this road, not only will you be called criminals and traitors, you will be criminals and traitors. You must ask yourselves, are you willing to be a criminal and a traitor to bring about the change you are looking for? If yes, we have work to do. If no, you had best leave now."
Sclivian Ruttle scans the room carefully, looking for dissent. A viper emerges from his collar to scan the room, as well.
Merax mutters to himself.
"I still will not wear a uniform."
There's an awkward silence again as the group contemplates Sclivian's words.
Finally Vitti pipses up. "Nice snake."
Absentmindedly he pulls another block of wood from his coat.
Yakupolio, the gnome, laughs. "Some of us here were criminals and traitors before you even walked through the door. Part of the problem with this town is just thinking that the house of thrune might do with a better decorator is enough to get the bucketheaded jerk off's on your case.
I don't think you're going to find anyone willing to abandon the one palce in town where they can speak their mind. They're either too angry or too stupid for that.
Although..." She admits tapping a finger to her lips. "Disguises are a good idea even for our stern and stocky friend there. There's not many dwarves in Westcrown but for all they'll know we're an outside influence."
"I certainly hope one of you is a tailor, with all this talk of costumes. What other talents do we have here in this group?"
"I certainly hope one of you is a tailor, with all this talk of costumes. What other talents do we have here in this group?"
"I can whistle and rabbit-man can whittle. We all can run and speak and see.
They all answer with soem pretty mundane jobs. Tarvi runs a jewlery store with her parents for example, Ermalos is a black smith, Mathalen says with some disdain that she gets work as a porter and laborer. Vitti is a woodcarver (duh). The only other one of note is Yakupulio who owns a tavern and hires out the service of knowledgeable women.
Merax simply watches and listens while waiting for Janiven.
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Sclivian nods. "Very good, then, much needs to be done."
He stops addressing the group and just start milling about, speaking with individuals.
He confers with Tarvi, "You have talent, I am willing to help your studies along. But I'll need access to scribe's inks for scrolls for you and us all. Would there be any around?"
Then, he pulls Tok aside.
"Mr. Goldfist, you have served me well. I am most impressed with how you have handled yourself. As you can probably guess, the nature of my clientele has changed, and the firm will require a more diverse skill set if it is to compete. Would you be interested in accepting an offer of partnership in the firm? Here, you can hold onto this armor potion. You will probably make more use of it that I will."
Caldazar starts pacing back and forth looking for Janiven's return with a worried look on his face.
Tok is stunned by Ruttle's comment, but his face remains stoic.
"Mr Ruttle, your words do me honor. Thank you. As for your offer, I am a little surprised. What do you think I will bring to your new venture? I am not confident in my ability to keep the books."
Tarvi seems equally stunned by Sclivian's remark to her and she nods with some excitement.
Janiven does not return that night as the others show you to your rooms encouraging you that Janiven's a capable woman and will be back in the morning. The group has mostly brought its own bedrolls since traveling back to their own homes this time of night would be tantamount to suicide. You are allowed to use the former priests quarters here which have simple but serviceable beds. Several steps above a cardboard box.
Tarvi seems equally stunned by Sclivian's remark to her and she nods with some excitement.
Janiven does not return that night as the others show you to your rooms encouraging you that Janiven's a capable woman and will be back in the morning. The group has mostly brought its own bedrolls since traveling back to their own homes this time of night would be tantamount to suicide. You are allowed to use the former priests quarters here which have simple but serviceable beds. Several steps above a cardboard box.
Pollux gathers the sheets and blankets into a twisted mass in the center of the bed and falls instantly to sleep. Castor emerges from the 'nest' a mew minutes later and sets off to hunt for crumbs and cockroaches.
Pollux mutters in his sleep but luckily noone alive understands the language.
Caldazar sheds his armor and stretches out before settling in for a night's rest. He rises early and seeks to make some breakfast.
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"Do not fear, I can keep the books just fine. However, based on the new clientele, we will be facing challenges that will not be solvable by enough bookkeeping. That is where your talents will prove useful."
Satisfied, Mr. Ruttle does his very best to stay comfortable for the night.
In the morning, he spends some extra time rechecking his figures in a ledger he has seemed to keep safe in all the chaos.
Cantrips: Detect Magic, Message, Read Magic
First Level: Grease (DC 16), Memory Lapse (DC 15), Protection from Evil
Resistance: Fire 5
Following Ruttle's lead, Tok settles in for the night. In the morning he begins with prayer and helps Caldazar with breakfast.
Merax takes off his armor but leans his axe against the wall by the bed. His loaded crossbow sits on the floor at the side of the bed also within easy reach. Finally satisfied he let's himself slumber.
In the morning many of those who were still there that night are there in the morning.
Janiven returns to you soon as you finish breakfast looking as if she spent the entire night prolwing the sewers.
"Bad news and good news." JAniven says as she leans her bow cross the door. "The good news." She snorts as she says. "The raid last night was a training exercise. We should be so honored as that they'd consider us worht their time. So much so we should have been paid for the trouble." She shakes her head irritatedly.
"It also turns out that we're not being pursued anymore/. We lost them in the sewers and the remaining Armigers are being punished for losing us. So we're safe for now."
She sighs and keeps talking. "The bad news is the little feud of jurisdiction is over ant the Order of the Rack have a hold of Arael. They'll be transporting him to Citadel Rivad this afternoon by carriage escorted by ten armigers."
She pauses to give you time to react and let the news sink in.