"James, huh? Poor James. He was a right nice fellow. It's too bad we had ta go an' conk 'im unconscious." Garick admits before pulling out his morningstar and mace. "Alright, the rest o' 'em aren't James, so let's conk 'em real bad," he nods firmly, grinning.
A moment's silence follows Raven's bluff, followed by another moment of indecisive shuffling. Finally another gray-robed man appears at the bend in the hallway and moves cautiously forward. "I... I should get help..." he mutters indecisively as he moves out into the open in front of the cells, the eyeslits in his mask clearly focused on his unconscious brother.
Standing over the now captive cultist, Amadea does her best to look threatening. She stands, half disinterested, sorting her arrows, checking for straightness, and testing the tips on her thumb till the cuts start to bleed.
"Now, there are a few things that I'd like to know; things that you are going to tell me. What do you know about your 'living god'? Who is he really, and what is your true intent here?"
The man, not currently surrounded, but well aware it's only a matter of time, seems to have his masked head on a swivel for a moment. Eying Amadea's hands, he actually seems about to hyperventilate.
"Our lord Razmir passed the Test of the Starstone, and he came to the Duchy of Melcat to oust the tyrant there, and has sense spread his word of rightful prosperity for those willing to follow His way and earn it for themselves." The tone and delivery seem to clearly indicate he recited that rote, eyes likely closed even though you can't see them. It seems unlikely that he knows much more than that.
It is common knowledge, however, that the 'Living God' rules the nation of Razmiran, formerly a River Kingdom, which has been slowly but surely expanding its borders in the area around Lake Encarthan.
"B-but I-I'm not s-sure that-the-local-clergy are in-intent on d-delivering the-message-so-much-as-personal-gain," he adds, wavering between a stutter and spitting words out rapid-fire. The next comes quietly, a hint of shame in his voice. "They require recruits to pick the pockets of the crowd, during the daily services in front of the temple. And they're running a racket, taking money from nearby businesses as... tithes to ensure nothing bad happens."
Garik moves over to help Amadea, staring directly at the masked face of the cultist. "Yer a bad lot and you oughta be 'shamed of what yer doin'. I ought ta conk ya." He looks to Amadea and then motions with his eyes at his morningstar and then to the cultist. "Hm?" he asks, wondering if she wants him to knock him out.
Under the dwarf's more active threat, the masked man really does start to hyperventilate. He rips off the mask, revealing a youngish, pudgy face framed by dark hair. Telperion whispers something and the young man seems to regain at least some control of his breathing after a moment.
"They make us do it!" he spits out. "They lie, the watch says they're alright but I don't think they know just what's going on they cover it up by donating to the city you never know what the penalty for disobedience is some folk have disappeared you know and Krant oh gods Krant." The young man, having sunk to the floor some time ago, pulls his knees up and seems to focus entirely on whatever Telperion had told him to control his breathing.
"Calm down, boy!" he whispers loudly. "You're gonna let everyone know we're here, and then I'm gonna 'ave ta conk ya good!" He looks back to make sure no one's headed this way. Seeing no one, "Alright, now we can help ya get out o' here if ya be wantin' but you're gonna 'ave ta help us. Who is this 'Krant' fellow ya speak of?"
The young man's face screws up into a rather unreadable expression at the dwarf's combined threat/offer of salvation. After a long moment he speaks, his words slower and his tone one of shame, though he also seems hopeful. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. I... I didn't want to do those things, but once you're in..." he shakes his head. "And leaving... Is discouraged. I'll help you in any way I can, if you try to get me out."
He takes a deep breath and seems to regain a little more composure. "Krant is a bastard. He's in charge of teaching new acolytes. He..." the acolyte trails off as he looks away. "He hurts people, and enjoys it. We... We'd be better off if we don't run into him at all, though at this hour it's likely he's passed out in the kitchen or the dining hall."
Drosk silently watches the interrogation of the cultist, fixing the young man with the stern, disapproving glare that he himself often saw on his Uncle Braggar's face when the young dwarven priest was first learning to work at the forge.
Checking the area again, "Alright, then if ya can lead us to a more secure area, then go to leadin'. We'll be right behind ya. And know that I'll be right behin' you." He motions his morningstar at him. "You can understand we canno' take any chances. Yet you seem like a trustin' fella, so I'll be givin' ya yer chance. And I give ya me word, if ya help us, we'll help you. And a dwarf's word is better than a dozen mug o' ale." He nods emphatically. "Just don't be for givin' me a reason ta conk ya. Now let's go."
Amadea nods to the others, indicating they should lead on through the door, and knocks an arrow on her bow.
The young man seems to waver a bit at Garik's unsubtle meaning but nods nonetheless. "I-I'm not sure that you'll find a much more secure area," he says. "If we're leaving..." he pauses, the cogs in his head clearly turning. "The best bet would likely be through the courtyard. The gate is locked, but it seems someone has some skill with locks or we wouldn't be having this conversation. There are guards on the walls, but they're looking out, not in."
He wipes his brow, his sleeve coming back mildly damp. "The main entrance to the worship hall is guarded at all times by our seniors, and any confrontation would surely wake everyone, and we would quickly be surrounded." He takes another breath and adds, "The real trouble is that there will be an acolyte guarding the vestibule, which we must pass through no matter where we go. We aren't to be roaming the temple at night, and I'm afraid I would be unable to convince him to let me alone pass, let alone all of us."
Morthos cracks his knuckles.
"Well then. It sounds like it might be time to do a little 'spring-cleaning'..."
He turns to the 'acolyte'.
"Is there anyone in particular that you feel is more or less blameless? I would prefer to avoid harming them, but in the case of the higher-ups (like this Krant character), the gloves are definitely going to come off..."
"Well dang. I sure was hopin' for someplace better ta talk our plan out. Ah well, no matter, 'cause we ain't leavin'. We gotta put a stop ta these no gooders. Is there no way ta get past this vegetable guard at all?"
"We should make sure this Krant fella is out o' th' picture 'fore we head upstairs," Drosk advises. "An' maybe make sure none o' th' acolytes in th' bunk room can get out. Is there any way t' bar the door to th' bunk room from th' hallway?" Drosk asks the acolyte.
"Oh, an' what's yer name, lad?" Drosk thinks to ask the acolyte.
"Whoo..." Raven leans against the bars of one of the cells. "Whatever they drugged us with is hitting me harder than the rest of you, it seems. I feel like I was out for two months! I barely remember what we're doing here, and I don't really care anymore. Here's my idea: Telp and I will take this kid out through the courtyard and see him to safety. Then we'll head back to Kassen and retire to our respective studies. The rest of you can have fun storming the castle."
"Thomas," blurts the slightly bewildered acolyte. Politeness either forgotten or not part of his character, he turns his mind to what the two other dwarves have said. "I, um, err, most of the acolytes, that is, are... Blameless? Maybe not, but they're... they're just men and women, most of them. The... well, there's quick promotions for the kind who fit well, let's say."
"We must cross through the vestibule to get anywhere, I'm afraid, and acolytes are confined to the lower levels at this time of night. Either, you, er, conk him, or talk your way past him. I'm not sure who's on duty since... since this was an unusual night," he says, looking as though he has never said anything more true.
Looking to Drosk, he says "As for the doors to the acolyte quarters... they open out. I'm sure w- I mean, you - could find some storage crates in the kitchen, or the tables if nothing else, that would at least block them for a while."
Finally he adds, gesturing to Raven. "I like her plan. Best I've heard all night, really."
"Wait a minute, laddie, what are ya on about? Why is this night so unusual?"
"Wait a minute, laddie, what are ya on about? Why is this night so unusual?"
"Aye, Thomas. What's goin' on t'night?" Drosk echoes Garik's query.
Thomas gives a nervous chuckle. "Well, three dwarves, two half-humans, an elf, and a couple of others walk into a bar..." he starts, giving an almost apologetic smile. "What I mean to say is that with new recruits, the usual rosters for chores were shaken up, since James and I were to tend to the new recruits... That is, you. And it's safe to say that recruits usually don't... conk anyone."
He frowns and adds, "Well, not until Krant makes them, at least. He's fond of staging fights amongst us acolytes. But, apart from that, as far as I know, it's business as usual. Although Brother Egarthis is in charge rather than Mistress Iramine..."
"Ohhhhh, I see. Yeah I guess we kinda shook up your 'typical night' now, didn't we?" He grins, winking. Turning to the others, "I'm with you, Drosk, I'm thinkin' we oughta take care of this Krant fella. He's a definite no gooder. We should conk 'im real good. And then make our way upstairs like ya said. I'm for that." He nods.
"Hold on a minute there, lad," Drosk interrupts, holding up a hand to stop Thomas. "Did ye just say 'Mistress Iramine'? Wouldn't happen t' be an elf, would she?" the dwarf priest asks, sudden realization beginning to dawn on his face.
With a quizzical look, Thomas nods. "Yes, she is. She's the head priest here - founded the temple, in fact. She left a few days ago, all of a sudden. I'm afraid I don't really know much more than that - she was largely... Hands off, where we acolytes were concerned."
"...whereas Krant is definitely hands on, I take it..."
Morthos frowns.
"It sounds like our initial goal should be to barricade the acolytes into their dorm, and deal with Krant. I volunteer for the latter."
"Aye, Morthos. Secure th' immediate surroundin's, then find out what Iramine is up to. I've got a sinkin' suspicion that 'Mistress Iramine' is Kassen an' Asar's long-lost companion. Doubt it's a coincidence that she left just a few days ago..."
"Well, you know me," Bolkin spoke up as the group formulated a plan, "I'm up for any plan where step 2 is 'beat stuff up', especially if we can learn something from it. Step 1, though, should be making sure the odds are in our favor as much as possible. I vote we go see about setting up that barricade and see where that gets us."
After looking to the unconscious James, dwarves leading, moves to the dining room. Rather than one long table, there are several smaller ones pushed together, which makes the matter of flipping them, removing them to the hallway, and resting them against the acolyte's bunk doors, legs out, a simple enough matter. The barely-broken silence as the group endeavors to move furniture as quietly as possible remains nerve-wracking, however.
The kitchen seems abandoned, but as the group looks for suitably heavy provisions to improve the barricade, some snoring to rival that of the trio of dwarves can be heard through a closed door, which the group surmises is likely the larder.
The final flourishes are a heavy crate of turnips and a few heavy water cask set against the tables, hopefully providing enough weight on either end of each table to keep anyone who wants to see what the din is about at bay for a while. A thump marks the last keg going into place as Evlar's grip slides a bit. "Thank you," he whispers to his companions as they take a moment to catch their breath. "You're all mad, I think, but at least I can get out of here. And you're doing a good thing," he adds, with some sincerity despite it being an obvious afterthought.
He moves to join Telperion, Raven, and Thomas at the end of the hall, alert for any sounds from above, and ready to provide a distraction as they run to the courtyard. With a nod, a farewell, and an agreement to meet at least once more with Regnar before returning to Kassen, the four agree to move up the stairs and make a break as soon as they hear whatever trouble stirs up with Krant.
Which doesn't take long, as the door to the apparent larder pops open and a huge, bleary-eyed man stumbles out, leaning on a massive club as he rubs the sleep from his eyes with one hand. Catching sight of some of the party through the doorless exit to the kitchen, he calls "'Ey, what in the hells're going on? You worthless sacks lookin' to get some more bones broke?" That said, he seems to realize you aren't acolytes looking for a morning snack, and hefts his weapon. "Jailbreak? 'Bout time I had some real fun," he says with a malicious, spine-tingling grin. This, it is easy to surmise, is Krant. A pair of beefy acolytes follow close behind, each brandishing their own, smaller clubs.
Here is a hastily assembled Google docs combat map.
Initiative
> 19 Morthos
17 Drosk
15 Krant & Co
11 Bolkin
8 Amadea
4 Garik
Krant & Acolytes
Amadea
Garik
Morthos
Bolkin
Drosk
Round One
Drosk offers a brief prayer to Torag and touches Garik's shoulder, imbuing the barbarian with bit of the Forgefather's holy guidance.
Morthos roars, rages, and charges!
Amadea takes aim at the vile acolyte driver and looses a shaft at him.
Morthos starts the fray proper, catching the big brute in the shoulder with his axe. With a look in their eyes that make Thomas being on guard duty seem quite fortuitous, the acolytes move to surround the dwarf. Stars explode in front of Morthos' eyes as two saps hit him in the head from separate directions.
Krant howls in anger - loud enough that you expect he might have woken the whole town square - and smashes his massive club into Morthos' own shoulder, and while the blow is largely deflected, the bruise will probably be pretty impressive. The 'priest' then wheels his weapon around in a backswing, which would have left the dwarf seeing more than stars had he not ducked under it.
Initiative Round 1
19 Morthos 35 hp / 10 nl damage
17 Drosk
15 Krant (13 damage)
15 Acolyte 1
15 Acolyte 2
> 11 Bolkin
8 Amadea
4 Garik
A1:
A2:
Krant:
Seeing Morthos get knocked around by the cultists, Garik moves in with his axe and mace and joins the fray. "You best surrender 'efore ya make me mad." He tells them as he brings his axe down toward the cultist.
"Bah!" he exclaims as he misses wide.
Bolkin moved to get into the fray as fast as he could only to find that Morthos had gotten there first, already landing the first hit. He watched as the Dwarf got flanked almost immediately afterwards and shrugged off a couple hits on the noggin. "You need my help? Probably not but what the heck," he exclaimed as he lashed his flail out at the legs of the acolyte to his right.
Bolkin's deft pull with the flail pulls the acolyte's feet out from under him, the burly man making a great whoof sound as he loses his breath. Garik shows up shortly afterward, turning a near miss into a devastating blow between the man's shoulder blades. The prone form gasps in pain, but continues to writhe about, if weakly.
Amadea darts in to the adjoining room, draws a bead on Krant, and lets an arrow fly at Krant. The giant priest, heaving about in a furious rage, seems to not even notice the arrow in his side.
Initiative Round 2
> 19 Morthos 35 hp / 6 nl damage
17 Drosk
15 Krant (18 total damage)
15 Acolyte 1
15 Acolyte 2 (12 damage)
11 Bolkin
8 Amadea
4 Garik
Amadea draws and looses again.
Morthos takes a swig of liquor, 5' steps , and, his rage renewed, takes another swing at Krant!
Garik swings his axe and his mace at the prone acolyte.
Round Two
Drosk follows his companions into the kitchen, chanting another prayer to Torag. The dwarf priest touches Bolkin's shoulder, imbuing the guardsman with bit of the Forgefather's holy guidance.
Morthos steps past the fallen acolyte and strikes a blow that certainly felt telling on his end, and while Krant starts to flag a little, his furor seems to drive him onward. Drosk moves up and says a prayer over Bolkin.
The standing acolyte moves forward, and launches a half-hearted swipe at Morthos, focusing too much on keeping his distance. The prone acolyte, gasping for air, thrashes in Bolkin's general direction with his weapon but fails to even catch the guardsman's attention.
Krant anticipates where Morthos plans to dodge and has his club meet the dwarf's midsection, wood on stone creating quite a crack. A follow-up swing makes contact but fails to do any damage through the thick plate.
Initiative Round 2
19 Morthos 29/41 hp / 6 nl damage
17 Drosk
15 Krant (40 total damage)
15 Acolyte 1
15 Acolyte 2 (12 damage)
> 11 Bolkin
8 Amadea
4 Garik
A1
A2
Krant
With the acolytes growing increasingly unnerved by the ferocity of the party, Bolkin decided to focus on the one who still posed an actual threat. Nimbly stepping past one of the acolytes, he made a quick motion with his flail in order to both throw Krant off guard and build up momentum for an upward swing.
Bolkin moves up and successfully throws off what little guard Krant is putting up in the midst of his furious attacks, and uses the opening to drive the head of his weapon into the priest's side.
Amadea's arrow strikes the shoulder guard of Krant's hide armor, clattering to the ground without drawing blood.
Garik, true to his word, gives the prone acolyte a good conk with his light mace. The prone form stops struggling, though he seems to still be breathing.
Initiative Round 3
> 19 Morthos 29/41 hp / 6 nl damage
17 Drosk
15 Krant (52 total damage)
15 Acolyte 1
15 Acolyte 2 (21 damage)
11 Bolkin
8 Amadea
4 Garik
Amadea aims again, drawing a bead on the most dangerous standing target.
"This one is actually dangerous!"
With the prone acolyte out for the count, Morthos takes another swig of potent firewater, 5' steps to flank with Bolkin, and takes another swing at Krant!
As the prone acolyte goes unconscious, Garik turns his attention to the one standing. Swinging his axe and mace again, he attempts to drop this one to the ground.
"For Kassen!" Drosk exclaims as he steps forward and bashes at the standing acolyte with Kassen's shield.
Morthos smashes his axe into Krant's torso again, but the man just won't go down. Drosk joins the fray with a powerful bash from his shield, which leaves the standing acolyte clearly unsteady on his feet.
The acolyte makes an unsteady swipe at his attacker, but Drosk has no trouble avoiding it. Krant, however, howls his fury - and triumph - as he crashes his club into Morthos twice over. Morthos barely manages to take the second blow on his shoulder rather than his noggin.
Garik swings his waraxe and just manages to break the acolyte's guard, the stunned man hitting the ground hard.
Krant, still alive, still ready to swing, is glaring at Morthos with murder in his eyes... He finally notices a wound, though - the new arrow in his chest, courtesy of Amadea - overbalances, and thuds to the ground.
The din of battle fades away for the moment, though it is soon replaced by the sound of scrambling, confused voices, and the thump of doors hitting the party's impromptu barricades. Mercifully, there's nothing much heard from above, so the other group must have managed a relatively clean jaunt into the courtyard, at least. It seems likely that the upstairs has been aroused, however, so time is likely yet of the essence...
Here's my rough map of the area from earlier.
A1
Krant
Confirmation:
Morthos steps forward, and makes sure that Krant stays down, *permanently*.
His shoulders then relax, and he looks momentarily winded.
"Alright lads, where to next? I wouldn't mind some healing, if we can spare it."