Watching Thaegrin enter the tavern, Iskandarr goes about to find a place to stay. I suppose finding lodging for our group is more important than an impromptu assassination
Upon finding a place to stay, Iskandarr will head back to the tavern to let Thaegrin know.
Iskandarr hurries back to notify Thaegrin. As he gets near the tavern, he notices a group of men with torches being lit.
Ezkal stands up and gathers his thing. "Innkeep! Surely you aren't thinking of going out there alone now are you? Might you be wanting a hand?" He said flexing out the stiffness in his shoulders.
The situation sounds a bit frantic downstairs, and the Rudianos agent does not have time to carefully go through all the papers on the desk. He quickly scans them for any kind of rudimentary context before shoving the papers into his bag. While his hand is in his pack, he pulls something out and affixes it over his eyes and nose.
The wizard speaks a magic word, and Tholan sees Thaegrin’s pointy grey hat and flowing grey robes shrink and darken to form-fitting black garb designed for stealth and maneuverability. A Silver Tabby mask turns to look at the Thelkonlander.
“If anyone is heading up here, forestall them for a few moments, please,” Thaegrin’s voice comes from the cat’s sparkling face.
The old scholar disguised as an assassin uses the magic in the mask to check the room for any magical properties. He mostly curious about the knife. Taking cautious steps with a lot of hurry behind them, he picks his way to the door of the balcony.
Blade tip pointed at the floor the Thelkonese Scout holds an empty hand up in a placating gesture towards the armed barkeep. "I'm up for a brawl as much as the next, but are you sure this is the best course of action to take? Those men out front don't seem interested in friendly terms...?"
Tholan nods to the wizard, eyes lingering on his skin which strikes him as a little paler than usual. Hm. Old man better not get himself killed going through that room. Settling himself at the top of the stairs, Tholan pulls War Dancer into his hand and swings it through a few quick spinning cadences to limber up his muscles.
The Silver Tabby hastily rolls up the writ of Unlimited Credit to avoid triggering the runes and stores it apart from the other papers collected from the desk. Likewise, the magical dagger is tucked away safely on the wizard’s person. Despite his anger at the innkeeper, the Rudianos agent cannot help but try to calculate just how much the Mimic owes the proprietor downstairs.
He tries the glass door to the balcony with as much quiet he can afford.
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Thaegrin's best guess is that the Mimic and his men have incurred a bill no less than 56 gold pieces.
The balcony door swings open with an barely audible hiss on well oiled hinges. Now outside, Thaegrin can see a man'sized something under a bloody canvas leaning drunkenly in a small alcove sunken into the walls to either side of the door. Ever thorough, Thaegrin checks the other alcove only to find it empty, then checks the drop: 30 feet if its an foot, but there is some straw below, though it looks a bit moldy.
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"It sounds like something of an uprising going on downstairs," Thaegrin turns to say to Tholan's back. He pauses, finding a moment of clarity. This disruption could allow the four of them to slip away quietly -exactly the secrecy that Thaegrin originally preferred. Iskandarr is the best hunter I've seen. He would manage to track us down. But then again, if the Mimic and his men are able to put down this little insurrection, there would be no doubt that the obtuse intelligence officer would hunt them, too. And that hunt might not wait til morning...
A mild cough catches in his throat and burning pain revisits the old Feraweni lungs. He recovers quickly, but the ache lingers. He regards the muscular Drolleye on the other side of the room. Thaegrin can guess what the Thelkonlander would prefer to do, but the wizard has also been surprised by the wisdom in Tholan's choices before. Moreover, he cannot remember the last time he asked the imposing figure's opinion on anything.
"We have a chance to get away and resume secrecy, but that might leave a loose end. A mustachioed loose end, if you take my meaning. Or, we can aid these Arched peoples in their little rebellion, jeopardizing the covert nature of our mission. What do you think we should do?"
"Oh, and let us not forget the third option:" he adds with a dry tone, "We could kill everyone..."
Tholan looks over his shoulder with a grin. "Kill everyone, eh? That always sounds good." He chuckles, hefting his blade up onto a shoulder as his other hands scratches at a heavy beard. "Hm. I hate to draw too much attention, but his prying is a significant threat. How likely do you think it is that we could kill him and steal away? I don't want us to get embattled here when we have more important work to do."
Rolling his shoulders with a heavy sigh, Tholan turns to look at the old wizard. "I hate to walk away from a chance to spill blood, but you can't kill everyone you meet. Apparently."
"Alright, alright already Innkeep, I can see that you're aching for some action. Bound by my duty as an inquisitor of Gorum, I must do my part in bringing the glory of battle to the world. Just wait one a few secs as I gather my brother, eh?" Ezkal says soothingly to the clearly impatient man. "Oy! Tholan! Gorum is calling for our services!" Ezkal bellows up the stairs as he unstraps his sword from his back. He whispers a quick prayer to Gorum to prep for the battle
"Just him, the leader. I got the sense that his men are afraid of how unhinged he might be become, what horrible things they might be ordered to do. I would like to convince them to let him die, on the condition that they go free..."
"Time is of the essence. Join your brother if you wish, but together we should kill only the Mimic and disengage." Without waiting for a reply, the black garbed Silver Tabby leaps over the balcony railing. Thaegrin falls, silent as shadows.
When he lands, he angles his head to listen, and judge how close anyone might be to where the alley meets the road where the Mimic waits.
Tholan nods as the wizard takes his leave over the edge of the building, and strides down the stairs. "Aye, brother. But the old man wants this done quickly. We take the loud one, leave the rest unless they get in the way." Tholan grins, swinging his blade in fast arcs around his body. "It's like when we used to fight with an arm tied, or half a sword. The challenge makes it more interesting."
Anga lets the barkeep move past him towards the door as he listens to his compatriots discuss the plan of action. Nodding mostly to himself he sheaths his dagger and loosens his rapier in it's scabbard.
Glancing out the front windows he considers the front face of the bar and the street that will soon be their battle ground.
With a heavy yawn and a nod to his brother, the Drolleye begins chanting a prayer to Gorum, calling on his blessings as they prepare to bring another sacrifice to the Lord in Iron.
Anga's mind races as things come to a head. Considering his options the man of secrets tries to remember what he knows of the Archard islands and their history.
Ezkal begins his pre battle routine, stretching, flexing, quick flicks of his wrist. He infuses himself with awesome force.
He carries far too much anxiety on his shoulders. he looks at the leader. He should learn from the animals, they carry no stress or need no "satisfaction". Their food and their freedom is their satisfaction. I'll help him learn.
Thaegrin utters a magic word and a blue energy flickers around his form for just a moment before vanishing. He remains in the dark, preparing to sneak ahead.
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When no one immediately appears, the Mimic shrieks, "Burn it down!"
The tell-tale whoosh of torches in flight, then dull thuds as something hits the dry shingles of the roof. Instantly, smoke curls dance among the rafters and small flickers of fire can be seen licking at the roof.
After hearing the Mimic order the inn burned, the fog cloud is vaporized. Iskandarr sees the tail end of what seems to be some elaborate gestures from the Mimic.
Tholan grunts as he hears the Mimic's shriek and the thuds of he torches. "Pathetic idiot. At least Gorum will have his due tonight." Tholan strides forward until he stands just inside the door, beginning to spin his blade into a whirring hum. As he reaches the door, he murmurs a final benediction over all present, a rippling light spreading out to envelop both allies and foes.
A man in black stalks through the night, careful to stay out of the light of the torches as he rounds the corner of the building. A dark glove shields his face to keep the spreading fire from glinting off the silver tabby mask.
Iskandarr shakes his head with a "tsk" noise and casts Baleful Polymoph on the mimic.
Ezkal charges the closest opponent raising his greatsword above his head with a loud yell.
If hits, Cleave that guy adjacent to him, Swing one Intimidation
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Ezkal explodes from the smoldering inn in a tangle of steel and beard. His sword chops into the nearest man and bites him deeply and shakes him to the core.
The man Ezkal hit, drops his sword and falls to his knees. "I surrender! Please don't kill me!"
The other three break and run, disappearing into the darkness, and leaving their injured ally and boss behind.
With a grin, Tholan trots up to stand looking down at the Octopus, power surging through his arms into his blade. His blade flashes down, striking at the Octopus. "What a vile human he was. We're all much better off without his kind of filth."
He turns an assessing eye over to the surrendering soldier, looking at his brother and shrugging.
Ezkal lets out a shout as he stands over the kneeling man. "Oy! Old man! Do you have questions for this one?"
Tholan's eye turns to the torches licking at the roof, and he sighs heavily. "Trying to burn down a perfectly good tavern. Waste of good alcohol." His hand glows with force and energy and a torch flies from the roof into his hand. He turns to the innkeeper as he drops the torch to the stones. "We need water, quickly. Where can we get some to douse those flames?"
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The innkeper, who finally mustered up the courage to face his tormentor, bursts from the inn with a crossbow trained on the Mimic's position only to see that the Thelkonlanders have things well in hand. He stops short at Tholan's question. "Erhm. There's a pump 'round the right side of the building." He stares at the twained cephalopod. "Too quick. That bastard deserved to die thrice over!"
The aging man is getting worked up again, when he suddenly notices the captured man. Slowly, he levels the crossbow at the prisoner, speaking to Ezkal. "This one worked for him, took his coin, stood by for all I suffered. He's mine. I don't care how big ye are. Stand off big man."
Ezkal looks easily at the Innkeeper. "You can have him after we question him, aye?"
A sputtering harrumph announces Thaegrin's arrival on the scene, his disguise as a Silver Tabby dismissed. His old eyes study the octopus pieces. He glances at Iskandarr, and then the captive and the innkeeper.
"Pity." He mumbles bitterly.
He lifts his gaze up to the roof as the flames begin to spread. "Tell me, Innkeeper. Is it a common business practice to store poisonous vapors a stiff breeze away from your kitchen?"
He punctuates his question with a hard look to the man with a crossbow.
"That minion knows nothing. I have studied alchemy somewhat," he adds. "The dangerous fume in question is highly explosive..." Thaegrin gestures calmly to the spreading fire on the thatching.
"Your livelihood is at stake; you will lose the building and everything inside in moments. Whatever you hoped to gain from your little uprising, is it worth losing all of this?"
Anga quietly steps into the shadows around the corner of the building. With a quick hop he reaches for any surfaces on the face of the inn and attempts to haul himself to the roof.
"If we're going to help him, let's do it with haste. Otherwise...
The man of shadows glances meaningfully at what flames remain licking at the woodwork of the building.
"Unhand me!" sputters the old man, recoiling from the innkeeper's clutches. "It seems someone else has removed the torches from your inn. Now, get on with your uprising if you wish. Or, don't and wait for Amerys to resume control over this situation." The wizard raises his sleeve to cough into the crook of his elbow. The fit lasts a few moments, and his eyes are watery when he recovers.
"I was poisoned while in your establishment, but I will not hold that against you. You can show your gratitude by forgetting my involvement with the events here tonight. Do you understand?" the Rudianos agent adds in a tone that brooks no argument.
"Do not mistake my disdain for the Mimic as benevolence towards you. The tide raises all ships, innkeeper. Will you cast off, or be swept away?"
Thaegrin internally rolls his eyes, more at himself for waxing poetic with a dullard. Caught thinking to himself as Ezkal changes into a large, dark bird, the wizard narrows his eyes. He would expect such an ability from Iskandarr, not the Gorumite. The thought leaves him as the Thelkonlander disappears into the night. After the innkeeper is well inside his establishment, he looks down at the one surviving agent of the Mimic.
"Get up, we're not going to kill you," sighs the old Feraweni, offering a hand to help him rise. "And I think the innkeeper forgot you in all the excitement. I would say to count yourself lucky to have avoided his wrath, but he seems a little dim. Forgetfulness might come naturally." He flashes a grin at the surrendered man.
"The same could be said of your chief, this Mimic creature. He seemed to have a boorish and clumsy approach to his trade, if he indeed was an intelligence officer. An insult to the profession, if you ask me..." the court wizard trails off, suddenly aware that he might be wasting words on another fool.
Thaegrin gestures in the direction the man's comrades fled. "It does not look like allegiance is a virtue upheld by the organization, given how your associates abandoned you. If you follow after them now, what do you think will be waiting for you: a hero's welcome, or their shame twisted into contempt for you? At this very moment, they probably think you are dead..."
The wizard pretends to straighten his robe and adjust his pack as the silence sinks in for the captive in front of him. "...and that sounds like a golden opportunity, my friend. We're leaving in the morning, embarking on a new venture. Care to come with us?"
Thaegrin allows a long pause after the man's questions.
"Do I need to repeat myself?"