Dorn - unused to dealing with such an unruly crowd - finds himself unsure on how to respond before looking over at Marikel. "Alright, lad...," he peers back over at the mob a moment before looking back to the cleric, "get 'em," he says with a snap of his head toward the bunch before he nonchalantly backs up a bit and crosses his arms in confidence.
Vhailor toddles slightly forward and ensures he's visible beside Dorn. Pushing back his glasses he lets Marikel speak the words, but ensures that his non-verbal presence puts another outsider's presence and voice beside Dorn.
Marikel takes a step forward.
Marikel sweeps his arm to embrace the entire village.
He crosses his arms and scowls.
A good portion of the crowd hunches their shoulders and lowers their heads, kicking at the road as they drop their stones and begin to drift away, shamed by the priest's reproach. About a half-dozen men, however, remain defiantly belligerent.
"A pretty sermon, padre," the apparent ringleader Foster sneers, "but you can take your preaching back to Lastwall. We can handle our own business here in Trunau. The traitors working with the Twisted Nail were all harbored inside that building; stands to reason there's more that weren't found out, and we've no intention to give them a chance to kill our women and children in their beds. They can wait for their orc friends outside the palisade, and if they won't go peaceable, we'll escort them there rough."
"Do you have a list of these traitors? How many able warriors are you going to lose because you believe the Twisted Nail will pick and choose who to kill once it breaches these walls? If your concerns are really for the welfare of Trunau, you will accept every weapon raised in its defence."
Adding his small voice to Marikel's Vhailor postulates "Stands to reason?... interesting choice of words... What you're doing is far from reasonable. You're cutting off your arm because it's got a bit of dirt under a fingernail."
The dwarf chuckles under his breath before leaning over near Vhailor. "He's a good, lad. A bit stiff around the collar but... good," he whispers, grinning as he leans back out.
"When the fightin' starts, they'll be killin' anyone who gets in the way that's not them. Me and me clan have been dealin' with orcs since we've been old enough ta walk. They don't care. And while you may not care about losin' folks who'd be willin' ta defend this place, I'd be willin' ta bet most of this town would take anybody that'd be wantin' ta stand against the orcs. And last I checked, cuttin' off your arm ta get a tiny bit of dirt out from under your fingernail doesn't sound like that's gonna do ya a lot of good, lad," he says with a wry grin.
"Foster," one of the men sidles up to him, "the preacher's got a point. There ain't no profit in kicking out men that might fight on our side when the orcs come."
"Aye," another puts in, "there'll be time enough to kill them then if they prove treacherous, and no wondering where their loyalties lie."
"Ain't the Trunau way," a third offers, "not to welcome folk willing to fight to live free ... if they fight." He gives Meriman in the doorway a suspicious glare.
Foster's lip curls as he hesitates, but then he spits furiously into the path at his feet. "You know we got our eye on you!" he calls to Meriman. "You and your flea-bit boarders put one toe on the wrong side of the line, we'll be on you like ugly on an orc, and ain't no meddling preacher-man going to talk us out of it next time!" He gives Marikel a glare and turns on his heel to stalk away with his companions.
Dorn busts out laughing. "'Like ugly on an orc'! Good one, lad!" he yells after the departing citizen as he's unable to stop laughing. Once the dwarf does finally calm, "Oh man, that was a good one. I'm gonna have ta remember that one: 'Like ugly on an orc'," he chuckles again, wiping a few laugh tears from his eyes. Taking a deep breath, "Well alright! Now that we've got that settled, I guess we're done here. All in a day's work, friends," he says with a wink.
Marikel makes his way over to Othdan Meriman and looks down on him.
"If they give you any more trouble, let me know. I see why you feel the need to protect those inside, but your earlier cooperation may have prevented several deaths. Be a shield, but don't be a wall."
"I... thank you for your intervention," Meriman responds rather stiffly. "I hope that you understand now that my lodgers have reason to fear the interference of the locals that have nothing to do with a guilty conscience or the absence thereof."
Alicia spots something in a second-story window and stares, a faint smile flickering onto her face briefly.
As no one else seems to be laughing, "Wow. Tough crowd." Not giving it another thought, he manages to catch Alicia out of the corner of his eye and looks her way, studying her a moment, he wonders how long she's going to keep looking up. Following her gaze, he walks over to her as he keeps his eyes focused in the same direction as hers. Once he nears her, "What are ya starin' at that's so interestin', lass?"
Vhailor bounces on his heels and smiles as the situation is resolved, murmuring "Well that went well.."
Marikel turns on his heel and walks past the others.
"Come on. We're going."
As Marikel heads back down the road toward the Lower Quarter, the clouds open up, and rain pours down, thunder rumbling ominously and lightning flashing in the background.
Vhailor bounces on his heels and smiles as the situation is resolved, murmuring "Well that went well.."
Dorn nods at the gnome in absolute agreement. As Marikel storms off, "Well... time ta go. C'mon, lass, whatever it is that's so interestin' is gonna have ta wait," he tells her, glancing back up a moment before leaving. Dorn follows the healer back becoming a bit surprised by the sudden storm. "Blast! Looks like that was good timin'."
Marikel stops, looks up at the sky, then looks back to Alicia.
"There was something interesting?"
He folds his arms and the rain trickles down his nose.
Marikel doesn't seem to notice.
Carbonel in particular is aggrieved at the advent of precipitation and seeks refuges concealed within his house gnome's overcoat. Thankful at least that his glasses can't fog up Vhailor frowns "Probably should get undercover... wouldn't be a good time for the orcs to show up either would it?"
Marikel stops, looks up at the sky, then looks back to Alicia.
"There was something interesting?"
He folds his arms and the rain trickles down his nose.
Marikel doesn't seem to notice.
Nearly running into the cleric due to his quick stop, he just manages to catch himself. "I'm pretty sure there was. She was starin' at somethin' up there." He points to the general area of the top floor of the building. "Never could see it meself," he says, shrugging.
Carbonel in particular is aggrieved at the advent of precipitation and seeks refuges concealed within his house gnome's overcoat. Thankful at least that his glasses can't fog up Vhailor frowns "Probably should get undercover... wouldn't be a good time for the orcs to show up either would it?"
Looking to the gnome, he shrugs. "Not real sure, friend. Orcs are and unpredictable lot so I couldn't really tell ya. And I mean that in a crazy kinda way, not methodical. I wished I could though, they'd be a ton easier to defeat," he nods as a matter of fact.
"Katrezra," the rogue says simply.
Marikel and Vhailor recognize the name Katrezra as one Patrol Captain Grath gave them: known or suspected associates of Daktani, along with Urnsul, Othdan, Melira, and Sara Morninghawk.
Dorn raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "Katrezra? What the heck is a 'Katrezra'? Can't say I've ever heard of that. 'Course, I don't speak as many languages as me friend Vhailor here does so if one of you would translate for me, that'd be great."
"A suspect," Marikel allows to Dorn.
Marikel at least has the decency to allow the party to resume towards cover.
He asks Alicia, "Did you talk to her last time? Might she know more of this? The guard haven't taken her so maybe she wasn't involved. Maybe."
"Yeah. He said he was ignorant of the whole business with Daktani, but I don't trust him."
"Unlike everyone else you meet..." Marikel almost smiles.
"If you find any further clues, I'm happy to hear them. There may be more traitors to discover within these walls but we have a real threat to prepare for rather than jumping at shadows like those idiots."
Marikel looks up to the rain, sighs, and walks on.
Alicia spares Marikel a sideways glance with eyes narrowed, but she manages not to stick out her tongue at the priest. Unexpectedly, her face screws up in a thoughtful expression.
"Who owned that flophouse before Father Hound?" she asks.
Half cheerfully Vhailor chirps "Well the orcs should be here soon shouldn't they? - that'll save us from skulking around... because the brutes' will be right out in the open?"
"Who owned that flophouse before Father Hound?" she asks.
"That is a very clever question." Marikel hides a look of admiration. "We can probably find out from one of the old timers, maybe Omast if he can spare a moment."
Marikel nods to Vhailor.
"Many will be in the open. But some will skulk around looking for defenceless targets to attack. We have to be prepared for everything."
Half cheerfully Vhailor chirps "Well the orcs should be here soon shouldn't they? - that'll save us from skulking around... because the brutes' will be right out in the open?"
Smiling at the clever thought as he turns and pops the gnome on the shoulder, "That's right! They sure should be! That'll be fun. Are they here yet? This town could use a good scrum." He looks around, wondering if some might have showed up and he just missed them. Not seeing a single one, "Blast. Still not here. Padre's right though, gotta be prepared for anythin'," he reiterates, nodding, as he takes one last look before giving up.
"Actually, let's go see Omast right now. He should probably be made aware of what just happened... from reliable witnesses."
Marikel leads the others towards the Ivory Hall.
The party reverses course and heads up Bloodmarch Hill to the Upper Quarter. The gates between the quarters are fully manned in the state of alert, the Patrol members within ready to bar the way behind evacuees, should the outer palisade fail; the guards pay closer attention to exactly who is traveling through from one part of the town to another, though they offer only polite nods to the group, rather than challenges.
Ivory Hall manages somehow to look both bustling and underpopulated, between the many messengers traveling in and out with reports and the absence of the Chief Defender and the Patrol Captain. Omast Frum is seated in the council chambers where Kerst Grath's body lay in state less than a fortnight ago, dispatching and receiving messengers. On the other side of the room, his manner as much as the length of the table proclaiming his distance from the dwarf, is Baseil Sawyer; Kessen Plumb and Lessie Crumkin sit near him with more conciliatory miens.
Marikel gives a polite nod to the other councillors before turning his attention to Omast Frum. He feels slightly proud at not rolling his eyes at Councillor Sawyer.
"Thank you for seeing us. I realise how busy you are but just thought you should know about the almost riot at the Howling Hound. Some idiot called Foster wanted to fight the orcs inside the building rather than the orcs marching upon us. He's seen reason for now, but obviously we don't want him causing trouble and helping the Twisted Nail."
Vhailor smiles and nods alongside his taller companion "Yep, they decided it'd be better to clean under their nails than figure out how to tie their belt one handed." said quietly whilst musing stately.
"Foster?" the dwarf replies with a quizzical frown. "What's put a pebble in his boot?"
"I wouldn't know," Sawyer puts in from the other end of the table where he's been listening. "One of your cronies, isn't he? Frequents Rabus Clarenston's establishment?"
"I've raised a mug or two in his company, aye," Omast replies, "but I wouldn't've thought there'd be anything short of Aroden's return would pry him off a barstool to raise rabble in the streets. Not a thinking man, is Foster." He gives Marikel and the others a nod. "I'll put a man on the Killin' Ground, keep an eye on things. Or do you reckon it'd be better to set him outside the Howling Hound to discourage a crowd from gathering?"
Frowning slightly Vhailor ventures "Wouldn't a guard give a bit more reason for the rabble to be roused? We're meant to be uniting against the common front and whatnot... posting men to guard ourselves seems a mite portion counterintuitive?"
Marikel nods.
"It makes sense that idiots starting trouble would recruit at The Killin' Ground." Marikel's eyes barely flick towards Sawyer.
"A man there might keep a few more folk sober enough to survive when the battle begins. I wouldn't waste valuable men guessing where the next trouble spot might be."
"We ought to shut the place down entirely," Sawyer advises. "The priest makes a cogent point. Can we afford to have drunken citizens when the Twisted Nail arrive?"
"That's not a bad idea," Kessen Plumb agrees. "It's in the people's own best interests, really."
Lessie Crumkin looks doubtful. "Is that fair to Rabus, though? His place of business will be in danger if the palisade is breached. Oughtn't he have the opportunity to make as much coin as possible against that risk?"
Omast looks pained. "Every man's life will be in danger when the damned orcs get here, too. Oughtn't they have the opportunity to drink a bit of ale and enjoy the company of their neighbors before that happens?" he counters.
Alicia rolls her eyes and remains silent. Figures Sawyer'd try to turn this to his advantage and find some way to get at the dwarf.
"Like I said, a patrol member posted there will help reduce the worst excesses. And if people have spare time, better they be in the Killin' Ground than out stirring up trouble somewhere there isn't a member of the patrol."
Marikel smiles amiably as if a decision has been reached.
"It's good to have the council's unanimous support for that. Is there anything else we can do to help?"
Sawyer offers Marikel a thin smile. "Not at all. Feel free to look to your own house, priest. I'm sure there must be church business that needs doing."
Omast concurs with more good will. "Just stand ready with sword and healing, Padre. We'll be standing in need of both when the damned orcs get here." He nods a dismissal, if there is no further business to discuss.
Marikel gives a slight bow to the councillors.
"The church will be ready. We'll do all we can to protect the innocent and punish those that would prey upon them."
He returns Sawyer's thin smile then turns to the exit, expecting the others to follow.
Dorn gives a friendly salute to Omast. "Have a great day, friend," he says to him, nodding, as he follows Marikel out the door.
As they exit the building and make their way along, "Those orcs won't know what hit 'em, Padre," he says with a tone of confidence. He then takes a look up in the sky, "Now where is that blasted bird of mine? I swear, he never keeps up. I'm gonna have ta shackle 'im if he doesn't learn ta keep up," he comments, shaking his head in relatively minor annoyance.