As Redstick does with Horgus, Morgrym talks to Anevia during the downtime.
How ye holdin' up lass? I could tell ye were intrigued by the though of help pushin' the demons outta the city. I just want ye ta know that we're all willing to do our part and take the city back. We'll get ye to yer wife and run these damned souls out, no matter what it takes, by Torag's beard I swear it.
Also during downtime, Caelus will again apporach Aravashinal, privately, on the arcane communities of Kenebares.
I was foster-raised from a very young age, but did see them occasionally. I knew, as a young boy that they had died, but I was told to seek out the order to which they had belonged. Do you know of a group called the Riftwardens?
Red Stick smiles wryly at Horgus' answer, the points of his tusks showing themselves just for a moment. He pulls out the old, painted stick he wears around his neck, and points out, "Hey, you never know exactly how and why you'll be thrust into a position of power. See this? I was randomly chosen to be sold into slavery--well, actually, sold into sacrifice. I wouldn't be the man I am today if that hadn't happened. Disasters have a way of forging people anew."
Razul sticks near Horgus and Red Stick. When Red Stick mentions disasters forging people anew, he nods slightly.
Naravash shakes his head at the arrogance Horgus persistently oozes, inwardly wondering if the fop would ever prove brave enough to admit his debt to the group. He imagines a city run by Horguses and it only takes a few moments before his shoulders slump in sadness, the tiefling suddenly thinking Kenabres would be better off an eternal ruin than rebuilt and run by Horgus Gwerm and his ilk.
Troubled by his dark thoughts and frustrations, the tiefling wanders throughout the mongrelman settlement alone, wondering on the future, fate, and the futility of effort.
Sarthonn nods solemnly when King Sull brings up the brooch, "Do accept our condolences for your son's loss, King. I lost both of my parents some time ago under similar circumstances. "
Sarthonn takes the brooch off and gently hands it to King Sull, trying to be calming. Then he volunteers some additional info, "While wandering the tunnels, we never cam across any other people of Neathholm until we saw Lann and Cern and Kern. We will keep a watch for your son while we continue to work toward the surface. Might there be other ways we could recognize him?"
After finishing the audience with King Sull, Sarthonn leaves the king's dwelling and leans against another wall, thinking of the loss of his parents and their similarity to King Sull's son. He takes a long drink from his flask to avoid the pain.
Sarthonn crouches down in a corner, trying to remain unseen.
"I count 2 of them, " he says. "Alone, they should not be difficult but they may raise an alarm."
Razul pauses. "Do we take the king's word that these are hostile, or must we give them the opportunity to parlay ourselves? What is to become of us if we assume evil where there is none? I have the scale; I can disguise myself as one of them and approach them. If there is evil, then they will attack and show themselves as such." Razul looks distinctly uncomfortable as he speaks of the assumption of evil.
"I've heard of powerful Iomedaens who can see into the hearts of men, but it is not an ability I myself possess." The lithe tiefling hedges then, rubbing his chin in thought. "But you make a good point. If you or another are willing to use the scale to learn of their nature, then I think you should."
"Perhaps we should approach undisguised. Between all of us, I think they would not be too much of a threat, but it might be a better gauge of thier intentions."
"I don't know. If strange men walked up to you bearing weapons, your response would be to assume they could be a threat, correct? I think coming as one of their own may give them time to show their true face."
Red Stick raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps, but what does 'one of them' look like? If they don't recognize you, wouldn't they just assume you are a Neathholmer and attack anyway?"
Razul touches the scale and lets its power flow through him, taking the form of a mongrelman he saw in the city. "Let us find out."
"Aye, armed folk approaching could be a threat, even if they approach with weapons sheathed. And it brings the same conversation we are having: how does one deal with one that MIGHT be a threat - invesitgate, in whihc case we may yet parlay passage, or instant violence, in which case we have our answer - either evil, or having no hope of peaceful interaction."
Morgrym turns back to Horgus, Anevia, and Aravashniel saying You three stick behind me while we figure out how hostile these beings be.
Sarthonn shrugs at Razul. "You do bring up a good point, we are strangers here and don't know who we can trust. What will your sign be if things go poorly?" he asks.
Razul-Mongrel tilts his head, then says in a low voice, "I shall yell very loudly. Probably help." He then nods and walks out toward the traitorous mongrel men. He makes no effort to conceal himself, but waits for them to notice him. When they do, he stops.
In Common, Razul calls back, "I cannot speak your language. Can you understand this one?"
Red Stick rolls his eyes and gets his falchion out, ready for this to go south already.
Naravash groans and draws his bow.
Red Stick looks over to Naravash and shakes his head, stifling a chuckle.
Red Stick lets Naravash launch his arrow before charging the nearest mongrelman before it can raise an alarm.
Provided he has a line of sight to a target, Naravash seizes the confusion and looses an arrow with a snap-twang.
HP: 20/20
AC: 18 (14 T / 14 FF)
CMD: 18
F/R/W: +4/+7/+1
Resist: cold (5), electricity (5), fire (5)
darkness: [ ]
Ongoing Effects
Red Stick looks down at his handiwork and gives an impressed "not bad" frown.
"Good work, Razul, I knew we could count on you." He pats the elf on his back.
Razul stares impassively at the others. "Could we not wait until they responded before we killed them?"
Aye lad, we could. Though ther demeanor be pointin' to aggressive actions, and it be better if we can get in wi'out alarm bells ringin'
"They did respond, and none of us understood what they were saying. As such, I'll trust Chief Sull's assessment, Razul. I've got nothing better to go on."
"Let us move on, and be prepared for the worst."
Caelus will lag back by Arivashinal, Horgus, and Anevia, and let Oynar pad ahead with the martial types.
Razul shakes his head at how vicious and bloodthirsty "good" people can be, and wonders if there is any difference between good and evil. He retrieves his scimitar and follows, bringing up the rear.
While trying to conceal the bodies in the barricade, Red Stick asks, "Does anyone know how to speak or at least understand their language? Magic, maybe?"
While trying to conceal the bodies in the barricade, Red Stick asks, "Does anyone know how to speak or at least understand their language? Magic, maybe?"
Caelus shrugs, a little sheepishly. "Sorry, beyond my abilities...Arivashinal? "
"Well, let's hope it's not necessary. And we should be thankful for the lengths Aravashnial goes to be precise, Horgus. Without such detail, we might stray into the path of his spell without realizing it." Naravash's words are offered as he glances up from patting down the two dead guardsmen. His glance bounces from the one slain by his arrow to Razul then back again. His shoulders slump slightly as he softly shakes his head.
Looking over the bodies, Red Stick suddenly stops, puts a finger to his lips, and creeps back over to the door leading further into the cavern.
After the enemies fall Sarthonn looks around, trying to see if any indication of their intent can be found in their belongings.
Seeing Red Stick motion for quiet, Sarthonn complies and moves against the wall, south of the door with his sword drawn.
Red Stick carefully inspects the door and the space around the door for bells, lines, stacked pots nearby...
Sarthonn waits to see what Red Stick reports.
In the meantime, he motions silently to the rest of the group to gather in the area just outside the door.