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Jamir rolls his eyes at the approaching guards.
"You realize this is barely going to qualify as a chase, don't you? They're wearing even more heavy gear than the city guards back in Cassomir did..."
Jamir keeps talking as the group runs, hanging back with Torvald although he could easily keep pace with their longer-legged comrades. Along the way, he points out what he considers excellent hiding places, but which would be completely impractical for any of the other members of the group.
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Jawhar huffs and puffs trying to keep up with the others, through the encumbrance of his armor.
"Beware a trap when we get there.
This fool just happenned to overhear one of the thugs mention this plan?
I find that unlikely. What better way to put the blame on Pathfinders than to lure them to the armory and discover them in the act of raiding the armory?
We should pause before we are in sight of the armory and look around first."
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"Yes, I was concerned that our chest might be in danger, speaking of traps. If this cum-stain, Hjort can hire 20+ people to fight his pathetic battle for him in a province that doesn't give a rat's ass about him, what does that say about his ability to hire a squad to raid our inn?"
The half-orc shrugs. "It's no matter; Abadar will secure our fortunes or not. I simply want my boot on this brigand's neck. Also, that sad-sack wretch of a decoy makes no sense, though I think he's telling us what he thinks is the truth. There's no way that Trollheim would have the power to influence the other provinces here in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings to purge Pathfinders. It doesn't work like that. The armoury is this way; let's proceed with cautious haste as Jawhar said."
Your party heads straight south across the market to a blank, wooden structure straddling the line between the market and a secured residential district. All seems quiet, though a small group of guards are speaking to one another quietly out front in Skald. The guards haven't noticed you approach. One of them points toward the armory while they continue to talk.
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Huffing as he tries to keep up, and absurdly grateful for Jamir's company even though he knows the halfling is faster than he, Torvald talks as he runs. "Is this Darkwine fellow seen as weak-kneed or something? Seems to me something as straightforward as a failed raid on an armory wouldn't be nearly enough to topple the warlord of a large city, but then again human political structures rarely make sense."
Craggark overhears the following, should we go in now or wait for back up? straining to hear because it's difficult to tell which one is talking at this distance, he hears another reply not my call you're squad leader. one of the guards glances up, *whisper* there's a momentary pause and the guards turn toward your party, You people hey! what are you doing? Step forward and surrender your weapons, in the name of Castilian Darwine!All of them already had their axes in hand, now the turn toward the party their lead member motioning for you to drop your weapons.
As the guards turn, Craggark instantly recognizes their livery as that of the Castilian's personal guard. He also notices the front door of the armory is slightly open. All of you notice that none of the guards fits the description of Hjort or Runa (in fact there's no female guards).
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* Yep, still in character
Jawhar steps forward with his hands raised.
"Greetings, guardsmen.
We just came upon information that the Armory was about to come under attack by a Chelaxian agent named Runa White and an Ulfen collaborator named Hjort Fastaxe.
They plan to raid the armory and plant false evidence that will destabilize the rule of Castilian Darwine.
We are willing to aid you in thwarting this plot. Do you require backup?"
I said put down your weapons! the leader seems very angry and motions the rest of the guards to advance. unbuckle your weapon belts and let them drop to the ground! You tell them! he's pointing to Craggark and talking in Skald.
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Given their experiences in Trollheim so far, Torvald wasn't in any mood to be trusting. "What's the play, gentlemen? Even if they're legitimate they aren't likely to tell strangers like us much," he whispers.
Louder he calls out. "We'll take ourselves elsewhere, sirs, but we've been attacked twice in the last two days, we're not about to disarm ourselves."
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20+1
Given their experiences in Trollheim so far, Torvald wasn't in any mood to be trusting. "What's the play, gentlemen? Even if they're legitimate they aren't likely to tell strangers like us much," he whispers.
Louder he calls out. "We'll take ourselves elsewhere, sirs, but we've been attacked twice in the last two days, we're not about to disarm ourselves."
[dice=Sense motive]1d20
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He takes a deep breath and looks around at his colleagues, unfastening his cestus and dropping it.
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Are they serious? Craggark and Jawhar had better be right about this!
"Are you two serious? You had better be right about this - there have been too many people trying to kill us since the moment we walked into this city! Usually it takes people a while to get to know me well enough to want to kill me!"
Jamir is obviously upset, but as he shouts at his friends, he unbuckles his sword belt and drops his rapier and dagger to the ground. Next, he unhooks his club from the loop hanging off his armor and tosses it on top of his rapier. He then unslings his halfling sling staff and adds it to the growing pile. Finally, he unhooks the pouch of sling bullets from under his cloak and unceremoniously drops it onto the rest, glaring at the guards as he does.
These uniform-wearing bureaucratic desk-riding tin soldiers had better give me a receipt!
Tell the Dwarf to put the potion on the ground and back away! he says in Skald as the move forward cautiously.
[dice=Sense Motive]
The leader guard looks at the others as Torvald let's his gauntlet fall. He nods at the other guards. They all trot forward and....
The guards stop short one in front of each of you. The leader comes up to Jawhar and speaks in common with a heavy accent, You , you're the leader? he waits for the answer.
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"As much as any of us is the leader. We are simply a group of friends who inadvertently tumbled into a plot against Castilian Darwine and would like to see that plot stopped.
The people plotting aginst Castilian Darwine have also tried to kill us on multiple occasions the past couple of days, so we would like to see them pay for this.
I am willing to speak for the team. However, if you prefer to speak with Craggark so that you can converse in your own tongue, he is equally able to speak for the team.
We would like to help you to deal with the threat against Castilian Darwine and protect the armory. Please, let us assist you."
The leader studies Jawhar intently, Hmm, we were called here by some local citizens about a disturbance inside the armory. I don't believe your involved. He looks at your blood stained clothes and pieces of broken glass still stuck to some of your clothes. His nose wrinkles at the smell of stale beer from the puddle, Craggark was laying in at the Horned Helm.No...if you were involved you wouldn't have given up your weapons. Another of the guardsmen comes over and whispers in his ear.
*whisper* corporal you know we've orders to wait till re-reinforcements arrive..umm..but, if these be allies?
The corporal taps his chin thoughtfully then he addresses Craggark and Jawahr, You! addressing Craggark. your a bastard 1/2 breed from the Stormspears right? Why do you want to help? You speak the language but, you're not from here. I don't doubt a few of the taverns in Trollhiem have asked you to leave....what stake you got in this? he pauses only a second before turning to Jawhar, And you...your not even from these lands! From the look of of you and your friends you've already been in a scrape today... speak for yourself..why do care if Castilian Darkwine's armory is in danger? Is this just a revenge thing?
The corporal motions his men to lower their weapons and waits for your responses.
[dice=Perception]1d20 + 6
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"Why do we want to help? Sir, I mean no slur on your fair city, but the good folk of Trollheim are just a bit... suspicious of foreigners. And by foreigners I mean anyone from outside the city borders. You are correct that I have no personal interest in who rules Trollheim. But if a couple of foreigners with ill intent attempt to overthrow your Castillan, how much worse will that suspicion grow to be? No, if there are those who would sully the reputation of all visitors to Trollheim, then we are duty-bound to try to stop them, or my name is not Jamir Montajay, of the Cassomir Montajays!"
At the end of his speech, Jamir reaches reflexively to his waist, where his rapier should hang. Because his blade lies on the frozen ground with his other weapons, instead of drawing it with a flourish he just grasps at the air ineffectually.
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"We came to Trollheim to confer with a respected scholar and friend of a man whom we all admire.
Upon arriving as the sage's home, we found it burned to the ground and no sign of the sage. As we held a solemn moment of prayer to plead for his safety, we were attacked by a group of thugs who turned out to be working for the agents we mentioned, Runa White and Hjort Fastaxe.
Worried for the safety of the sage, we went in search of these agents, tracking them down to a nasty hell called the Horned Helm where they had been meeting.
We entered and saw a man who we thought to be Hjort. As we began to question this man, we discovered that a trap had been laid. Runa and Hjort had hired a couple of thugs to incite the hell into a bar brawl.
After we settled the bar fight, we were able to question this man who looked like Hjort. He had overheard a plan to assault the armory and plant evidence that would implicate our sage and contacts he has in Kalsgard.
Trollheim is a fine city, but as you say, it is not our city. However, the agents who are organizing this plan have attacked us twice, abducted our friend, and have threatened to frame a man that we greatly respect.
We want to see Runa and Hjort taken down and brought to justice. Helping to save the city and your Castilian are secondary objectives that resonate with the sense of adventure and honor that breathes through each of us.
Rest assured, we are not here seeking glory. Let us help stop this plot. Once we have located our friend and have seen Hjort and Runa punished, we will be on our way. All glory for saving the city will rest squarely on your shoulders."
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Craggark puffs out his chest. He speaks in Taldane, and follows by interpreting each line in Skald.
"I am Craggark of the Miusunnit. My mother is Irikh Stonyfish, Speaker of our people. I may be half-breed, but the blood and the people of the Erutaki flow through me.
I am also a Pathfinder, and we have been sent, as my priest colleague has said, to find a sage in your city by the name of Skagni. We found his home burned to the ground and were ambushed by thugs with orders from a Hjort Fastaxe, reportedly of the Blood Ram tribe to the west. Our investigations have uncovered a plot of his to besmirch the honourable name of the Pathfinder Society by attacking the armoury and planting evidence of our organisation's involvement.
We only recently found out this hard-fought information after being ambushed again at The Horned Helm by Hjort's men. Additionally, there has been evidence of an Asmodean servant, Runa White, in league with this Hjort Fastaxe. We came here as soon as we could, but noting that Freyr Darkwine's personal guard was already here, we knew that we were too late to stop the beginning of the assault."
Here he smiles and cracks his neck.
"We are all too happy to help end the assault, however, by aiding the honourable castellan guard."
The corporal clears his throat, *ahem* Well met then Craggark of the Miusunnit, I am Corporal Ironbow Nilsson of Trollhiem and member of Castilian Darkwine's personal guard. Pointing to the other guardsmen, and these men are my squad. He looks back toward the armory.We were patrolling the neighborhood with our Sargent, when one of the locals informed us that, there was a disturbance at the armory. When we arrived, we found the door ajar and no one inside responded to our hails.This is how you see it now. Our Sargent set off to the castle to gather reinforcements. He left us orders to let no one leave until his return. The corporal spits on the dirty snow covered cobblestone. We wanted to go in and investigate but, our Sargent is an unforgiving task master. The corporal offers up empty palms as if, feigning helplessness.
The young corporal looks back to his comrades and two of them nod approvingly. His voice lowers and he motions the party closer, in order not to be overheard. Here's the crux of it, some of those men inside the armory are friends. If they're in trouble, we're honor bound to help them. Problem is; we took an oath to obey orders on to death, when we joined the Castilian's personal guard. Now it ain't no thing for a northerner to sacrifice his life for a friend He pauses to give Craggark a nod of respect. But, none of us want to face the gallows or the dungeons, if our comrades are just in there passed out drunk from a night of revelry....if..ya get my meaning?Now he looks at the whole party with pleading eyes.
Our orders are to make sure no one leaves the area. But, our Sargent didn't say nothin' about letting some people in. Now I'd normally not let any non-authorized personal enter the Armory...but, seeing how these be special circumstances...maybe my men and I could be interviewing the locals while you four slipped inside and find out what's happened to our comrades?. He looks around and says..There's a suspicious looking fellow there! pointing to a stray dog digging through a refuse heap. Let's go find out what he's about men!
The corporal motions for his men to follow. All four men move towards a nearby alley as the dog scampers away. They leave your equipment on the ground, where you left it.
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Craggark straps his cestus back on and looks at Jawhar.
"Time for that wand, I think, Holy Man. Jamir? Torvald? I don't know about you, but I'm carrying an alchemist's fire and using it at first sight. Let's prep ourselves PROPERLY, gentlemen."
Craggark takes time to pull out his lone flask of alchemist's fire. He makes sure his dan bong is easily drawn, and just prior to entering the armoury, he performs a curious kata manueover.
"Ready," he says as the guards 'question' the stray dog in the street.
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Jamir rearms himself as quickly as he can, glaring at the others as they each finish retrieving their weapons far more quickly than he does.
“Either you fellows are shockingly dishonest or woefully lightly armed. I am not sure which idea disturbs me more.”
Immediately before entering the armory - as Jawhar is tapping them all with the wand of protection from evil - Jamir covers his rapier with his oil of magic weapon. Following Craggark’s example, as they walk into the armory, Jamir pulls out his remaining vial of acid.
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Torvald grins at Jamir, flipping open the flap on his breast pocket to reveal two acid flasks, then flipping open his waist pouch to reveal four more mixed flasks. "Shockingly dishonest it is then!" he chortles.
Upon entering the first room he holds an acid flask in his gauntleted right hand and the Shield potion in his left, ready to drink the latter at the first sign of trouble.
the front door to the armory is made of a heavy, thick wood and is bound by iron. At several points across the door, visible cracks and splintered wood can be seen. The battered door stands slightly ajar, opening inward to darkness. You open the doors and peer in cautiously. some light floods in the first 5ft of the hallway, But, the gloomy sky of Trollhiem is shrouded in clouds, leaving only the immediate entry with light. The rest of the hall is either dimly lit or, cloaked in blackness.