Anevia is already out the door when you start asking her about going to defenders heart. She waves you forward and says"Daylight's wasting, let's go. Look Dorek, I'm going to vouch for you ok? If that's not good enough for the crusaders they can answer to me." As an afterthought she cleans off her short sword and sheathes it.
Thawm notices Ahmose putting out the small fire.
"Oh!" she squeaks before putting it out properly with a miniature downpour, dumping a couple gallons of water on it.
She hurries after the others down the road, pausing to reload her crossbow as she catches up.
Cecily looks pensive but assents. "I suppose it is on the way, and Lushya may well be there already. With Roch, of course!" She raises a hopeful note, but her wariness returns as she looks at Dorek and Ahmose. "Juse be on your best behaviour when we get to Defender's Rest, you two. Sir Tandyn is right that the crusaders should be distrustful, but we do not need to give them any more reasons with sticky fingers."
Defender's Heart, Kenabres' largest inn is a stout stone structure that seems to have survived the attack with ease. As you approach you see that every 3rd window om the highest floor has a guard crossbow. Stacked around the building are improvised barricades allowing the guards opportunity to snipe anyone who approaches. They don’t notice you yet.
"Just be on your best behaviour when we get to Defender's Rest, you two. Sir Tandyn is right that the crusaders should be distrustful, but we do not need to give them any more reasons with sticky fingers."
Dorek scowls. "J-just how do you t-think I'm going to act? T-twice in prison is enough for m-me - I'm an h-honest artisan now! I m-mean, Ahmose here is one t-thing, but I'm an acrobat. A c-craftsman. Not a t-thief - not anymore."
Dorek huddles behind a pile of rubble near the Defender's Heart, grimacing as he tucks away his looted unholy symbol of Baphomet into a secret pocket in his coat.
"W-what do you think? I could s-stand up, give the c-code word... and p-probably get shot anyway." He glances at Anevia nervously. "I'd ask you to s-stand up, but I k-know your leg's injured. G-give me a moment..."
Taking a breath to calm his nerves, the locksmith stands up, waving to the sentries on duty. His crimson eye narrows as he peers at the snipers in the upper windows. "Is K-krolok Fyrdarn-Howlingblood from the m-market up there? It's m-me, Dorek Devaimai-W-windstep - from the f-foundry!"
Ahmose nods in reluctant response to Cecily and winks at Dorek.
Aroden sighs.
"He could have let someone else take that chance."
Aroden steps out next to Dorek and raises his hands.
"Greetings friends! indeed, in honor of Terendelev, may she be avenged.
Glory to the Inheritor!"
Dorek scowls. "J-just how do you t-think I'm going to act? T-twice in prison is enough for m-me - I'm an h-honest artisan now! I m-mean, Ahmose here is one t-thing, but I'm an acrobat. A c-craftsman. Not a t-thief - not anymore."
"Let's hope they do not delve into your record then!" Cecily responds with a smug air.
-------------
Cecily also sighs, neatens her hair, and steps up next to the plebians to make a convincing case. "Ah, yes, we are here to report to the crusade, rest, and confer on refugees. I am of course the Baroness Leeford, apprentice under the dearly departed Terendelev. Pease allow our party passage. We are seven warriors, with Anevia Tirabade among our number."
She waves hopefully. "Oh yes, and the password is Silverstrong, of course!"
Tandyn looks around somewhat perplexed and joins the group. He quietly nods at the guards and shows his shield, tabard, original sword, and holy symbol.
Ahmose begins laughing so hard he levels!
The chuckling Alchemist pulls on Dorek's shirt sleeve.
I got a Disguise Self Extract available. S'pose I drink it to look like a stupid Long shanks. They probably will put me in irons. Everyone knows Kobold equals demon.
The Blue-scaled Kobold laughs harder!
The guards all aim their crossbows at Dorek, only one loses discipline and fires a bolt which misses his head by a few inches. After he shouts the password and when they see Cecily and Anevia they lower their weapons and shout behind them, ”More refugees! Some odd ones too. Not counting you Baroness ma'am or you either Mrs. Tirabade.”
The guard who shot at Dorek, a boy barely past fifteen offers a meek apology, ”Sorry…”
As you are let into the fortified inn a large and muscular half-ork woman meets you. She wears gold painted full plate with pauldrons emblazoned with a sunburst behind a sword. Anevia and the woman delicately embrace. ”I thought I lost you,” they say in unison.
After the tender moment Anevia introduces the party, ”This is Irabeth Tirabade of the crusader company Eagle Watch.”
Irabeth corrects Anevia grimly, ”Commander now. At least until reinforcements can arrive from Mendev.”
Irabeth turns to the party and smiles warmly, ”Thank you for delivering Ane safely to me. I swear I will assist you in any way I can.” She continues explaining, ”I know that word got out about the attack, but I’ve heard reports that Nerosyan and other cities along the border are now facing attacks of their own. But none so far has been as devastated as Kenabres.”
Irabeth’s says darkly, ”The city’s wardstone has been destroyed, and as a result the entire network is but a shadow of itself. Thankfully the demon’s inherent disorganization means they haven’t taken advantage of it.”
She asks, ”Please tell me what happened to you.”
"We got buried and unburied." Thawm explains, almost cheerfully.
As the bolt flies by his head, Dorek flinches, but when the sentries wave them in, he moves forward after a brief pause, unsure if any more of them will try to improve their aim. When the young guard apologizes, he holds his clawed hands up to stop him. "T-think nothing of it - you were just being v-vigilant. Still, I'm g-glad you m-missed." He glances around at the interior of the tavern, craning his neck to search for his family, though he grimaces as he sees the military fortifications hastily put in place against assault. "I used to c-come here on my lunch break, you k-know. For the p-price of a drink, they had all s-sorts of food - beans, fish, p-pickles - even some h-ham, if we were l-lucky." He points to a triage tent hastily set up in the shadow of a low wall in the courtyard. "The other w-workers and I would c-come out here, sit t-there to eat. So many t-things have changed, and in s-so little time..." At his feet, his shadow flits to and fro, searching for Huresk and little Saba with zeal, if not much method.
When Irabeth greets the party, he stands back as Anevia and her wife reunite, but at her question to the group, he steps forward, worry on his features. "I r-remember you - you came to the f-foundry to requisition a load of cold-forged s-steel. You were k-kind to the workers - I told my d-daughter that you were highborn, like L-ladyship here." He begins to wring his hands. "...B-before anything else, there's s-something important to me - have any r-refugees from this district come here? A K-kellid man and a small G-garundi child? There's n-nothing left where my home once s-stood, but my b-brother might have been able to get here - my family's g-goddess protects him. P-please - I need to k-know if they s-s-s..." He trails off, grimacing.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Tandyn nods and takes a serious tone. "Commander, I am Sir Tandyn. I was assigned to weapons instruction for Armasse, but fell into a large hole in the ground around the time that Terendelev was slain. The hole closed over trapping this group as well as Horgus Gwerm and Aravarshnial in the caverns below. By working and fighting together we were able to make it to an underground town named Neathholm founded by mongrel descendants of the first crusade. Our fight is their fight and they wish to offer reinforcements and support. They showed us a way to the surface through a cultist hideout and asked us to clear it out. We did and unexpectedly recovered Radiance." He gestures to it. The entrance to the hideout is in the Southern Gate District. If you have a map, I will mark it. From there we sought to deliver each group member to safety. Aravarshnial is at Blackwing. Horgus is in his vault. Upon returning Anevia to her home we were attacked by Vagorg. We slew him and Anevia directed us to come here. I have left out many events and foes. I can provide them in a full debrief. This group has earned my trust and respect in combat numerous times. Please consider us allies."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"I think, Commander of the Eagle Watch, that you will have a mission again. Since the failure of the Fourth Crusade some six years ago, I am sure it has been distressing for you to not have a purpose. For what is a Crusader without a Crusade?
This attack by the demons and the destruction of the Wardstone call for action. I am ready to do my part.
I am no member of any such order or organization, but you may have known me as Sarnax, Riftwarden orphan, raised in Kenabres and trained to fight demons with blade and spell. I go by the name of Aroden now, after the Last Azlanti who vanquished demon lords in ages past, but I am still ready to offer my magic and my sword to fight for Kenabres and for Golarion."
The Blue-scaled Kobold stands next to Sir Tandyn the entirety of their stay....
Me just da big Knight's squire. Don't fillet me, please.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Cecily gives Aroden some side-eye and a nudge as he carries on calling Irabeth's life up until this disaster meaningless, and steps in when she can. "Commander, I wish we had met under better circumstances. I am Baroness Leeford, of the Nerosyan Levains, but please call me Cecily. I am eager as anyone to avenge the treachery that befall my mentor, Terendelev, and affirm that I am ready to fight as well. I am searching for someone as well, an elderly woman by the name of Lushya who I am sure has been asking after me, who may be accompanied by a roan horse who answers to Roch. Have you seen them?"
"Caladrel and I are going to help too." Thawm explains, pulling her donkey closer and giving him a pat.
"I r-remember you - you came to the f-foundry to requisition a load of cold-forged s-steel. You were k-kind to the workers - I told my d-daughter that you were highborn, like L-ladyship here."
Irabeth chuckles warmly at Dorek, ”Don’t go spreading rumors like that, ha! You know I was raised on a farm. But I suppose have a title now so you're not that far off. I remember you too, though we were never introduced. No offense, but how could anyone forget you? I’m sure Kimroth, , can get some food for you, though I doubt we have any ham left.”
Me just da big Knight's squire. Don't fillet me, please.
Irabeth looks at Ahmose in his blue eyes, ”I don’t judge people by how they look Ahmose, but by how they act.”
Anevia gives Irabeth a look that says ’We’ll talk later.’
He begins to wring his hands. "...B-before anything else, there's s-something important to me - have any r-refugees from this district come here? A K-kellid man and a small G-garundi child? There's n-nothing left where my home once s-stood, but my b-brother might have been able to get here - my family's g-goddess protects him. P-please - I need to k-know if they s-s-s..." He trails off, grimacing.
" I am searching for someone as well, an elderly woman by the name of Lushya who I am sure has been asking after me, who may be accompanied by a roan horse who answers to Roch. Have you seen them?"
Irabeth’s expression becomes pained, ”I’m sorry I don’t know everyone who’s come here, but I don’t remember anyone like that. I hope you find them.”
"By working and fighting together we were able to make it to an underground town named Neathholm founded by mongrel descendants of the first crusade. Our fight is their fight and they wish to offer reinforcements and support.”
Irabeth is delighted to learn this, ”That’s fantastic news. May I suggest calling them First Descendants? I will send a few Eagle Knights to contact them and work out an alliance.”
Anevia adds, ”In the cultist hideout we uncovered the locations of three cultist safehouses,” she shows the note to Irabeth and continues, ”We’ve confirmed that Nyserian Manor has been destroyed in the attack. The demons were indiscriminate.”
Irabeth confirms with the party, ”The Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth have spies everywhere. And have apparently been among us for decades. Only recently has proof of their presence been manifesting. I personally managed to root out one of their more powerful members, the lead of a group called the Hammers of Heaven. We all thought of Staunton Vhane as a model crusader, but as far as I was able to discern, he’s been working for the demons for decades. There’s even evidence he may have been the one to betray Drezen 75 years ago.” She shakes her head, ”He slipped through my fingers and is out there still, causing who knows how much more damage…”
Irabeth shakes her head to clear her thoughts, ”You seem capable. Could you investigate the other two safe houses? I do not have the people to devote to such a task.”
"Commander, I would be honored to serve Kenabres by routing out the demonic cultists from their hideouts."
Ahmose looks both relieved and a bit nervous at the same time ..
At Irabeth's news, Dorek rushes off without waiting for her to finish, worry on his features, and he spends most of the next hour searching the tavern for his family, checking and rechecking the faces of each of the refugees who have made their way to safety. As he finally comes to terms with the fact that Huresk and Saba likely did not survive the events of Armasse, his mouth tightens, and he finds a quiet spot to sit in while the others deal with the merchants who remain at the Defender's Heart - he remains silent as he processes the news, but at his feet, his shadow weeps uncontrollably.
Eventually, as the group rests, he approaches Tandyn. "My f-friend? I was w-wondering... after the c-city is safe again, would you be w-willing to help me s-search the rubble? Find my b-brother's bones? I k-know my family is probably d-dead at this point... but it would be b-best to know, one w-way or the other. B-besides, there are certain r-rituals I must do, to ensure their s-spirits find peace." He sighs, glancing around at the rest of the motley group as they go about their tasks. "I k-know we met just the other d-day, but our l-little band here is p-probably the only friends I h-have who are still alive. I'd... l-like the others to c-come, if they can. Especially A-aroden. My b-brother was the last of the W-windstep god callers, you s-see - it's n-not just a funeral, but the end of a c-culture. I k-know we h-haven't always agreed, but I'm h-hoping he can watch. Maybe s-someday tell our s-stories in his m-mage-books. T-that way, my clan will l-live on, if only in m-memory." He turns back to Tandyn, his crimson eye silently pleading the paladin to help him let go of the past. "I k-know you probably have your own d-dead to mourn - b-brothers and sisters, and all t-that - but if you h-have the time..."
"We have found a good number of arms, taken from the vile knights of Baphomet. Still, they are good steel and will slay demons no matter their previous owners."
Aroden will present a huge quantity of armaments to the Crusaders, and hope to receive some lightweight armor in exchange, as well as a cold iron sword of good quality.
"My f-friend? I was w-wondering... after the c-city is safe again, would you be w-willing to help me s-search the rubble?" ... "I k-know you probably have your own d-dead to mourn - b-brothers and sisters, and all t-that - but if you h-have the time..."
"I am absolutely willing. In the meantime, we've checked two places. It's still uncertain. If they're hiding here somewhere, securing the city will help them. Perhaps they'll make it here after we've gone. We could leave a note with Irabeth for them. As for my family, we've all trained for this. We're either fighting or reinforcing Proelera. Our fight continues either way." The coldness of these recited words seems to eat at Tandyn for a moment, and then he shrugs it off.
Edit: Aroden makes only one purchase at this time, selling his old longsword (for 7.5 GP) and purchasing a MW Cold Iron Longsword (330 GP).
New total: 823 + 7.5 - 330 = 500.5 GP
He will change that into 50 Platinum and 5 Silver (for weight).
Standing just inside the front entryway, the small Blue-scaled Kobold begins to finally process his auspicious arrival at this f@!~ed city. The Alchemist planned to resupply. His visit to this frontier town was to be brief. Too many eyes and ears in a city this size for the Rogue's liking. Too many like him...
His reptilian blue eyes find the back of Sir Tandyn.
Except not like him actually. He has courage. Like real courage. Not that fake bullshit courage like most folk.
Ahmose just continues to stand still inside the front entryway. His blue eyes find the others of the troupe he latched onto in all that chaos.
Good bunch really. Actually "Good" too. Not fake good like most. They haven't strung me up yet, so that's something.
The Blue-scaled Kobold continues to just stand still at the front entryway. The small Draconician grins at the immediate surroundings that he currently finds himself in. Knights. Paladins. Wizards. Clerics. Fighters of every variant all busy doing war business. Not a single one has even glanced at the still standing Blue-scaled Kobold that has recently encroached upon their sacred domain.
Only a few days ago, I would have been shaken down, arrested, beaten, thrown in jail, escaped and resupplied the easy way.
Ahmose grins.
F$$~ing wars!
Cecily suppresses a frown at Irabeth's answer to her inquiry about Lushya and tries not to let it get to her. Of COURSE Irabeth wouldn't know everyone coming through, she's very important and has important things to do. But Cecily does have some time.
After the conversation ends, Cecily asks Sir Tandyn to freshen her up again and then spends her time working through the knots of survivors, introducing herself and asking after Lushya. Incidentally she does manage to pick up names and faces of a few of the survivors, but it doesn't occur to her to focus on them. But she doesn't give up until she's talked to every group, and by the end she is worn out and worn down. She finds a quiet corner and slumps down against the wall for a few moments. Maybe they're still at the Apartment. Surely they have barricaded themselves there.
The Blue-scaled Kobold continues to just stand still at the front entryway. The small Draconician grins at the immediate surroundings that he currently finds himself in. Knights. Paladins. Wizards. Clerics. Fighters of every variant all busy doing war business. Not a single one has even glanced at the still standing Blue-scaled Kobold that has recently encroached upon their sacred domain.
But eventually she notices the little kobold standing at the door. Is replanting something? Is he scared? Does he just feel out of place here? A tavern like this may be no place for a proper Lady either, but it is what we have now. She glances around to see if any of the guards or crusaders is barring him entry, and that he isn'tup to any mischief himself, but doesn't see any. She levers herself up, walks to the door, and extends a hand to him.
During her survey of the Tavern, she finds a survivor with a wand of mage armor they can't use. Cecily can't either, but she's got friends who can help her out so she exchanges 750 gold for it.
Tandyn looks through the merchant's armor collection for well-made heavy plate.
"I'm just going to admire this for a while... perhaps next time."
He wanders into the tavern and finds the group.
"Is everyone ready? It looks like we can hit both locations and circle back here."
Ahmose smiles up at Cecily. The Blue-scaled Kobold shrugs.
The Alchemist nods at her suggestion of eating, drinking, joining them at an actual table. He follows grinning.
F*&+ing wars.
Climbing up to stand on the long shanks chair, the small Kobold whistles at a passing server.
Round around and some eats.
Ahmose watches her just staring at him, as if he were a demon sitting nonchalantly at her table. He points at Cecily and Sir Tandyn.
Relax. I am with them. Great hero. Go ahead.
The Alchemist tosses her a gold coin.
Noticing Cecily as she sees what the other survivors have available, Dorek fumbles for his own coin purse as he looks around the tavern. "C-come to think of it, my p-pack's been digging into my s-shoulders pretty hard."
After a moment of searching the tavern, he finds Journeyman Kestrel, a member of the Locksmiths' Guild he had questioned earlier when seeking his family. Her backpack was much more fine than his own, and after some negotiation and a fair few gold pieces, she was willing to trade, as she didn't expect to be going much of anywhere for some time. In the process, the two locksmiths began to talk, and eventually, Kestrel agreed to sell Dorek her set of Guild-issued tools, of much finer make than those the tiefling had previously had.
As the impromptu band of heroes gathers to eat before setting out again, Dorek reluctantly joins - the locksmith is gloomy at first, but after some time, he realizes that Tandyn's earlier words were meant less as platitudes and more as serious advice, and he brightens up considerably. At Ahmose's defensiveness, he grins, nudging the little kobold with a bony elbow. "It's n-not your appearance - I look m-much more a demon than you, you k-know! You're n-new here, you see - people d-don't trust what they don't k-know, and they know m-me much better than they know y-you."
Around that time, the server finally returns with the drinks, and he grabs one of the pewter mugs to demonstrate, holding it up so the little kobold can see the maker's mark engraved on the bottom. "S-see here? Maratek M-metalworks - that's the foundry where I w-work. The owner's n-noble like you, L-ladyship - I thought you might k-know him. He hires d-demonspawn for the foundry f-floor; 's-survivors,' he calls his w-workers, because they don't b-burn so easily as p-pure-blood humans like..." His crimson eye casts around the motley group as he thinks for a moment. "...Hm. Well, you g-get my point. The p-pay isn't much, but for m-most, it's the f-foundry floor at half w-wages or nothing." He grins. "But I'm a G-guildsman now - won that apprenticeship and e-everything!" The locksmith's smile falters before he continues. "N-not sure how much of a G-guild there is left now, but when we f-find my family, I'll be able to m-make enough money to send them someplace s-safe. I hear Hajoth H-hakados is out of the demons' p-path - they'll be s-safe there."
As you pick your way through the devastated city you hear chanting in the air, ”Hear me lord Deskari! Lord of the Locust Host! Usher of the Apocalypse! Take this sacrifice as proof of our devotion and devour her body and soul!” The chanting goes on. Rounding a corner the party spies the source, three cultists wielding scythes and wearing green robes have dug a trench into the street and shoved a woman face down into it. One cultist has their foot on her back holding her down while the trio pray to their demon lord.
The three see you approach and one holds their scythe at the base of the neck of the prone woman while the others present the unholy symbol of Deskari. ”Not a step closer they say", clearly ready for you.
The woman's head is scythed clean off her head.
The woman goes limp, their life draining away.
Round 1
<-------------
<-------------
<-------------
<-------------
<-------------
<-------------
Ahmose watches Dorek purchase some fancy thieves tools. The kobold waits for the Rogue to move before purchasing some himself. He barely seems to be giggling....
The midmorning air from the still smoking buildings, wagons and residents reminded the Blue-scaled Kobold of his time spent amongst his kind.
F@&#ing why I left!
Hearing familiar chanting coming from ahead, Ahmose sighs.
Why couldn't this town have been sacked by Nirvana folk!
Ahmose begins kicking rocks in random directions!
Deskari! Lord of the Locust Host! Usher of the Apocalypse! What the f*#@! Whatever happened to "gimme yer money"?
Viewing the hostage scene, the Alchemist begins doing a bit of calculations.
She's about 65' away. I could try to take her out and Splastthe cultists?
"Let her go or I'll shoot again!" Thawm explains, after shooting at the closest cultist.
Her shot goes very wide, plausibly being a warning shot.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Seeing the cultists surrounding the unfortunate with scythes ready, Dorek holds his claws up for them to stop, trying to convey his best impression of a wild-eyed cultist. "No! Nonono! Cease, my brothers and sisters of the Locust Host! Your vigilance is to be commended, but this sacrifice is not properly sanctified! It is good that we please our lord Deskari as best we can, yes? Now silence, and allow me to perform the most sacred rituals!"
The cultists regard Dorek smirking, "Prove your faith and sacrifice that one, for shooting at us!" They point at Thawm.
Round 1
<-------------
<-------------
<-------------
<-------------
Ahmose begins digging through his backpack, hold up a one moment finger at the cultists.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Maybe I can place doubt in their minds.
Aroden shrugs. "If this woman has been a righteous servant of the Inheritor, then her soul will go to Iomedae. Perhaps to become an archon.
You killing her in Deskari's name will not allow the Locust Lord to 'devour her body and soul'. He only gets her soul if she was a follower of his.
Perhaps we can find you other followers of Deskari to kill, that your lord may feed on their souls and grow stronger.
Or you could fortify the armies of Heaven with another righteous soul, as you propose to do."
The cultists look at each other with puzzled expressions, they are clearly not convinced. However maybe it was Aroden’s eloquent delivery or the sudden change attitude, from violence to, we're cultists too, to well actually that provides Tandyn, Cecily, and Ahmose an opening. The cultists are distracted for a few moments.
Ahmose disappointedly stops digging for his dagger. The Alchemist instead brings out an Elixir of Expeditious Retreat, drinks it and begins Stealthily sheathing closer to the distracted at Asshat cultists by dodging in-between rubble, foliage, dead carcasses and such....
Tandyn takes out his spiked gauntlets and pulls them on doing a menacing grasping motion when each is fully donned. He then takes out his glaive and turns to face Thawm.
Thawm's trademark noise escapes her lips as she plays along: "Eep."
Then she explains: "I uh- I just wanted them to let us do that sacrifice properly?"
Cecily looks at the distance and doesn't love her chances of making it over. She grabs Thawm roughly and tries to help sell the ruse.
"Silence, worm!"
The cultist gets an evil grin and calls out, "Deskari take this sacrifice and empower us so that we may bring your enemies low!" The cultist plants the scythe in the back of the woman face down on the ground, she shudders in pain and goes limp. Her blood begins to fill the shallow trench.
All three of the cultists advance towards the party with belligerent confidence. Two of them hold up a set of stylized locust wings and from both of them a shard multi-hued glass shoots towards Dorek and Tandyn.
Dorek manages to dodge the strange bolt easily. The one headed for Tandyn strikes him square in his chest plate and it explodes in bright chaotic energy.