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"So, we're busted, eh?" Aquavius kicks back and lounges on a chair. "I couldn't leave the Pathfinder Society if I tried. Either I drown in Pirate Queen Besmara's locker or I have from Naval gallows. Neither are that pleasant."
She ponders for a bit. "Okay, who do we have? The Loyalists, we can't bribe 'em." She thinks some more. "Aiden, didn't that broker mention contacts in the Thistles?"
"And something about Docktown. She thinks Olandil was looking for something valuable."
"Did I miss anyone else?"
Olandil drops his head into his hands, and speaks to Aquavius and the others slowly. “Even for rookies…Gods above. The Loyalists want to throw me in prison. You are here to rescue me from them. Remember back a few days ago, when a venture-captain gave you a mission briefing? There’s no way they would agree to let me leave this town. Stay away from Loyalist hotspots like the Throne Defiant.”
"I'd talk to Lorrin Meese up at the Inkwell then."
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"The Thistles or Docktown make sense. I admire the Galtans for their willingness to get their hands dirty, but there's no loyalty there. They're liable to work with us one minute and let us hang the next. The Thistles are a little idealistic, but if we're going to use them as a pawn, idealists are easier marks." Aiden chuckles.
A shadowy figure skulks around the periphery of the laboratory, hoping for some useful insight into the professor's ritual.
"Hey, you! What are you doing there!? Put that down! It's NOT Necromancy!"
"The Thistles or Docktown make sense. I admire the Galtans for their willingness to get their hands dirty, but there's no loyalty there. They're liable to work with us one minute and let us hang the next. The Thistles are a little idealistic, but if we're going to use them as a pawn, idealists are easier marks." Aiden chuckles.
"Well, if you go with Docktown contact the halfling Auntie at her tavern, and if you are thinking of the Galtans you have to find this old noodle peddler, Madge, and order three bowls of her shrimp-stuffed cabbage."
"The Galtans have been really active, stirring up a lot of chaos and mischief since your group arrived. They might be the strongest just now."
"Don't you knock man!?"
"And 'no'. No one said 'Necro-you-know-what.' Now go away, and stop listening at my door!"
Hix departs.
"Madge, eh? At least I can eat more noodles."
"It's the shrimp stuffed cabbage." corrects Olandil.
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"I agree with Aiden, if for different reasons. To put our trust in Galtans for our escape is playing with fire. The Thistles would draw the most attention from the other factions, and would appear legitimate. I would be suspicious of Docktown raising a fuss, and thus that option appears the worst based on what we've learned thus far."
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"Well, if our cover's blown, I don't see any reason to keep up this ruse," Reggie says, stripping out of his robe and pulling out his an Rowdy's armor. He gets the armor on the wolf and then looks for assistance from someone for his own.
[b]"What's 'The Whale?' Is it a boat? Why does it need magic? Is it a flying boat?"
He looks to the others. [b]"I trust the Thistles the most."-
"When I was hunting around for magical items that I could use to help in an escape, I found myself in this old smuggler's cave along coast near Whaler's Point were I stumbled on the Professor's secret project."
"IT'S NOT-" Poppo begins hotly, "necromancy." he ends in a hissed whisper.
Olandil stares at him.
"It's not exactly a flying ship.... It's more like the opposite actually.... A sinking ship.... Well, more of a sinking whale carcass really. I've used magic to convert it into a sort of undersea vessel. I'm calling it Professor Poppo's Magically Propelled Undersea Whale Carcass Vessel, but it's not necromancy!" he glares challenging anyone to dare second guess him.
"Yes, I rather like the name too." Poppo says proudly. "Still it's not finished. Once I have it perfected, then maybe, we could all get away aboard my Magically Propelled Undersea Whale Carcass Vessel."
"Professor there's no time to wait. Any moment now someone is going to find us out."
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Aiden rolls his eyes. "What does everyone here have against necromancy? I mean, I don't love the idea, but a little here and there is good for the...well, maybe not soul, but you know...other things."
"So it's settled? We're duping the Thistles into helping us cover our tracks. Then, Poppo will work his completely not-necromancy spell to animate a decaying, rotting sea creature to carry us in the stinking digestive juices of its not-undead stomach and try not to drown." He sighs. "We've come so far on this little adventure."
Poppo considers for a moment and finally says "Alright, I'll do it, but it'll take time to perform the ritual to ready the Magically Propelled Undersea Whale Carcass Vessel. I'll have it ready by tomorrow morning. That'll give you some time to do whatever it is you have to." With that Poppo collects together some clean beakers from the countertops and heads out the door.
Olandil follows the Professor to the door. "I'll keep my eye on him, you get to Meese at the Inkwell, and tell him you need a diversion to help get us out of town tomorrow. And I wouldn't waste time on the Society's reputation in Cheliax, not if you don't all want to be trapped here too."
Then he leaves, closing the door behind him, and leaving the party alone in the quiet lab.
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"What's the big deal about making a boat that goes underwater? I can make a boat that sinks. It's keeping them above the water that's the hard part," Reggie comments.
He looks around at the group. "Is there any reason why we shouldn't split up? I think the Thistles are our best chance of actually getting out of here, but there are an awful lot of folks who are worked up and nothing says 'distraction' like an armed uprising. If we can get the Galtans riled up by talking to Madge and the Docktown folks rioting by talking to Auntie, why shouldn't we?"
"Getting Olandil out is our mission, yes but if we can get a rebellion going here, we can hurt the Chelish Devils and help this town. They've lived with a Chelish boot on their neck long enough."
Outside smoke rises from distant parts of the city further darkening the overcast skies. The streets are thronged with with people watching the invasion and gossip, or rushing to get supplies, or trying to hunker down in their shops against the protests of the growing angry mobs desperate for food and lamp oil.
Docktown pulls up their boarding planks leaving the rest of the Pezzack to their fate. "We're just merchants after all!" is a common refrain their decks. Meanwhile the rest of the city descends into chaos as the more violent elements of the rebellion emerge to meet the Chelish threat.
Fighting their way through the turmoil up the east shore of Fat Harbor the group can see that Shorewall is in the midst of shelling Whaler's Point, though the group is pretty sure that most of the fishermen are still there. Most would not leave their ships--their sole livelihood--alone at dock.
There is evidence of enemy fire on this side of the Pinch as well. Great chunks of earth and the walls of the makeshift fortresses are pitted and scorched. The dashing Lorrin Meese himself can be seen at the top of a ladder leading a bucket brigade in putting out a roof fire on one of the Inkwell's out-buildings, while the hulking automaton, Clackings, creates a firebreak by demolishing the building next-door merely by walking through it.
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"Getting Olandil out is our mission, yes but if we can get a rebellion going here, we can hurt the Chelish Devils and help this town. They've lived with a Chelish boot on their neck long enough."
Aiden scoffs at Reggie's suggestion. "This is still a Chelish town. Eventually the authorities will act. Whoever you rile up to cause trouble has a high likelihood of ending up dead. Unless you're a Galtan, I doubt you actually want to see these shopkeepers and people die. And how many homes and lives will be ruined in a general riot? I've never seen a riot that ends up well even for the rioters."
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Aquavius breathes in, deeply. Ah, the sweet smell of riotin' and lootin'. She can't wait to- what is Reggie blabbing on about now?
"Sounds like you want us to split three ways, Reggie." She shrugs. "Talk to Madge, Auntie, and the Thistles? Maybe we should go to Madge first. She knows more than she's letting on, I swear it. Also those are some good noodles- maybe she'll get rid of her stock for cheap!"
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"Of course I don't want to see anyone die. Especially not people who are just trying to live their lives. But this place is slowly being starved. Their only options are to suffer more and more until they die or fight hard now while they still have some strength and make themselves too much of an annoyance for the Chelish to keep dealing with. I just wish there was a way that we could get all three factions working together against the Loyalists and the Chelish," Reggie returns.
"I think we have enough time for just two groups. I'm planning to head back to the Inkwell and I'd certainly like assistance. I was also going to try the Alchgarden again. I still think the freedom fighters could get some great assistance if they had some alchemical weapons. Some Molthunian Cocktails would go along way. If someone else wanted to visit Madge and Auntie maybe we could broker a deal or at least get everyone aimed in the same direction."
He pauses. "Although, Whaler's Point being shelled, we might be able to get them on our side, too. Nothing gets you into a fight faster than someone punching you in the eye when you've been minding your own business."
"Ah ha! Wizards, and not it seems!" Meese calls down from his perch on the ladder. "I am afraid I cannot philosophize today friends! There is too much reality in the air!"
Reggie notes that the body of the former Chellish governor of Pezzack still hangs like a sad flag from the Traitor's Hook in Whaler's Point. None of the invaders have taken notice of him.
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575 scowls at Reggie as well, clearly not at all in support of his desire to encourage more futile rioting to appease his own sensibilities.
They can raise their fists
But those that cause all of this
They are not present
It just becomes worse
As they fight among themselves
Cheliax still wins.
What kind of person
Seeks to burn it to the ground
When they are leaving?
He seems a little miffed at Reggie's callous attitude.
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"What's with you all and this blasted noodle cart?! we need the Thistles! they're organized and have half a brain. Look! they're even up there, putting out fires! Come on!"
Coming close to the Thistle fire brigade, Son of Cayden joins the human chain of buckets, and hails Lorrin Meese, "Hey! we're here to help! let us know if there's something else you'd have us do!! we need to talk as soon as this fire is put out!"
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"I'm the only one who thinks change needs to come to this place? It's painful, yes, and it would have been better if everyone had come together and stood united against Cheliax, but if this were a perfect world, this place would never have been under Chelish rule in the first place," Reggie says.
When they get to the Inkwell, he throws his (small) weight and (not so small) strength into helping put out the fire.
"The fire, go out? Interesting idea and an interesting bit of symbology. Come in! Come in! Our doors as you know are always open even if our walls are not up." He leads the party back into one of the salon's nooks.
"No wizard's cap this time friend?" he asks Reggie and then moves on. "So how can I help you?"
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"We want to spread the word of Amalia Wraxton out into the wide world... I know many in Pezzack are still in love with their country of old, and to change things back to the way they were, we must first spread an idea... tell this love story to the world and bring evidence to all that not all Chelaxians are supporters of Thrune! We need two things: to find a copy of Amalia's best work or folio, and secondly, we need you guys to make a bit of noise on this side of town while we try to make our escape. I know you're well respected here and that you may not share all of Amalia's views, but we need a strong leader like you to help in our escape. We have a few items that we could give you as a thank you gift, and once we're on the outside, we have friends in high places that could devote some considerable resources helping your town down the road. What say you?"
"Before all this trouble with Jaks turning out to be the notorious Printsmith we were were offering chapbooks of Amalia Wraxton's verse, signed by the author herself for a small donation . I don't know if it is her best work, considering the last time she produced a major play it nearly burned the whole city down, but given the Chellish Navy's reaction today, all I can say, is it seems good enough for me."
The man picks up a pair of tumblers and pours himself a drink, which he in turn offers to anyone one else who'll have one with him.
"'Escape?' You mean from Pezzack? Through the blockade? HA! Do you plan on flying like strix?"
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Son of Cayden very happily takes the drink, and clinks it with Meese's, "We plan to climb into a dead whale, seal it, sink it, and make it swim under the blockade with some highly experimental magic. This may be the last drink I ever have, now that I think of it," Son of Cayden slides his glass for a refill, a certain... worry... now appearing on his face. "I'll have another, if you can spare it. Here: I smuggled these wading boots into Pezzack two days ago. I can testify that they have a good seal, and are very comfortable. This would be valuable to any fisherman or dockworker in this town. Paid 50 gold pieces for them. If you don't mind I'd like to take two copies of Amalia's chapbook. One for the world, and one for me."