Ausk continues forward. The guards don't let their guard down. The wind continues to howl as the skies thunder and the rain pounds itself into the earth.
Password!? You idiots don't recognize one of your own holding a symbol of the Holy Inheritor! Gods damned fools! Bah.... Ausk, finally hearing the guards loses his temper a little. I've got civilians back there wanting shelter and in danger, I'm getting wetter than Gozreh's backside and you want a password! Fine.... What was that password? Hmm.. Anevia said something about Silverheart, no thats not it.
Silverstrong. Ausk calls out Now, help me get these people into safety.
"Ausk, what are they saying? I can't hear a thing."
Rex fidgets with his pistol, ready for any hostile moves.
They wanna know the password. Put your weapon away. Ausk responds.
On hearing the correct password one of the guards lowers his weapon and charges out into the rain to meet you. He's a young man that looks to be in his late teens, and he wears damaged armor that's at least a size too large for him. It would appear that he isn't the armor's original owner, and his mannerisms tell you that he's likely a fresh conscript.
"You said you've got more people? Any wounded? We'll get some stretcher bearers if they're needed. Let's hurry and collect everyone and get inside. This storm doesn't look to be going anywhere any time soon."
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Back that way a few houses Ausk says to the young man. He then waves his companions forward and enters the Defender's Heart himself once the civilians are taken care of.
"Excellent," says Max when they get the all clear sign. He heads forward eagerly to get out of the rain, then wrings his robes out. He then looks around to see if he can find his adoptive father, Elder Paolo. It was a long shot, but this seemed like a potential gathering place.
Tina follows the rest of the group in
Rex stows his pistol in his belt and follows the group in.
"Hopefully we have found some refuge."
Kel passes his polearm to Max. "Can you hold this for me. I want to be able to approach them without a weapon drawn."
As he approaches he makes sure his face is clearly visible and has his hands up. It wouldn't take long for them to figure out his heritage.
"Umm... I suppose I can do that. How do you hold this thing?" Max takes the polearm and swings it dangerously around, before it slips from his grasp. He cringes as it clatters on the ground. "Sorry - it's just a bit heavier than I expected. And the rain... you know." Max does his best not to accidentally impale his friends.
Kel sighs. "You don't have to swing it. Just hold it. Like a walking stick."
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As you enter the inn you're hit with the mingled smells of body odor, various foods, and filth. The scene that plays out in the common area is more of a despondent shanty town than a busy tavern. Weary looking men and women shuffle between small tents made up of whatever large scraps of cloth could be assembled together for privacy. Children cry, sit quietly, or engage in simple games with one another. Merchants have set up small stands along the walls and bark their wares to an uninterested and captive populace. The stairs and hallways are filled with people somberly walking back and forth, going in and out of the once private rooms.
One of the two guards from outside asks you to stand by the doors, while a few more ragged soldiers step outside to take temporary watch. Eventually he returns with an elderly man at his side. Though old and limping, the man stands confident, not showing the same downtrodden look as so many of those around you. A tattoo of a talon descends from his left ear to his chin, and as he approaches he holds out a hand.
"Quednys Orlun. I'm temporarily in charge here. It's good to see that a few more able-bodied folks have survived this hell. We can use all the support we can get. I see we've got a few soldiers in your group, but are any of you healers? We've got sick and wounded that need tending to, and not enough care to go around."
Anevia steps from the back of the group and approaches Quednys with a look of concern on her face.
"Irabeth Tirablade. Where is she? I know she survived the attack, but I would have expected her to greet us, not you. Or at least someone from the military. Please tell me nothing happened to her. And have any more of the Eagle Watch made it here?"
"You must be Anevia," Quednys says as he places a hand on her shoulder. "Your wife was alive and well last I saw her. She's supposed to be the one running things here, but like a stubborn ox she insists on going out on patrols herself. She should be back shortly. As for the rest of the Eagle Watch, they've been busy organizing the headless bands of mercenaries and crusaders who have trickled their way in these past few days. They've been indispensable in keeping things quiet here."
I am a healer and will be more than happy to help. Tina grabs her healer's kit and will head off to tend to the wounded.
Indeed.. Master Quednys, I will find what remains of my colleagues and assist the wounded. says Ausk.
Kel was amazed that he hadn't been accosted as they entered. He was very off balance by the sheer indifference the people around him displayed. He expected a place that had been overrun by demons to be distrustful or outright hateful of anyone tainted by their blood.
He tentatively took his polearm back from Max, checking to see if anyone was going to object.
When he heard the name Quednys, the angel in his head grew interested.
Him. He may be able to help with our problem.
Alright.
"Ah, Master Quednys, my name is Kel and I have a problem that I was hoping to discuss with you. When you aren't so busy, of course. Please let me know when I can have a few minutes of your time. I need to ask you about how demons and angels take mortals as hosts."
You already know about that. I could tell you anything you don't understand. Why the subterfuge?
It just seemed like a better way to approach the subject than 'Hi I don't know you, but I have something riding along inside my skin that can't figure out if she's a demon or an angel'
Look who's talking. Whoever heard of a Tiefling Paladin?
I don't think I'm a paladin. That involves oaths, and being chosen by a god, and some kind of code, and all kinds of other stuff.
Guardsman, I am older than the language you speak. I have watched the lives of more mortals than the number of stars you can see in the sky. I have trained entire holy orders. I was assigned to serve as the protector of the First Sword of Aroden during the Shining Crusade when the Shield broke and the Whispering Tyrant was locked away. I was the guardian of the Crusader Queen. I know what a paladin is. You might not think you've been chosen, or sworn, or follow the code, but you have and you do.
If you don't believe me, then believe the sword. Radiance is an old blade, passed between many champions and has never been known to wrong. The righteous power of divine justice flows within you.
Kel leaned agains his polearm like his legs were unsteady.
I thought that was all just… you.
Many things flow within me. None of them are righteous or just anymore.
Deia follows Tina and Ausk as they head off to tend to the wounded.
Quednys looks at Kel with surprise as the tiefling asks about possession. "I'd have expected someone like you to know more than a few things about that already. Needless to say it's terrible business on both sides, though we tend to be more welcoming of one over the other. If things ever go back to normal around here, I'll be glad to talk. But if you'll excuse me, I've got things to attend to elsewhere. When Irabeth gets back we'll try to find some room for you and your group to bed down. Until then, feel free to wander the common areas. I'm sure the merchants are more than happy to see new faces who're more likely to buy their wares than the ones they've been shouting at for days."
And with that, Quednys stalks off down one of the corridors before he vanishes from sight in the crowd.
"Well looks like we found our refuge, good to see not everybody in town was driven out, enslaved or worse."
Does anyone have a handle on how the loot tracking sheet works? I don't really have a handle on what items we have, or have been sold, or have been distributed. I'd be happy to try and sort out the accounting if I can just get a sense of where to start.