"Heather, beware!"
Emerion darts in to strike at the brightly colored snake, positioning himself to flank with Heather.
Attack: Damage: + Sneak Attack
Threat Confirm: Damage:
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Emerion edges into the temple, looking around carefully. Perception: "I get the distinct feeling that there is a lot that Lord Arkona wasn't telling us," he murmurs.
"Looks like just a simple barge, no cargo or crew," Emerion reports, and returns to the shore. "I think the doors are a better bet." Checking the double doors for traps: Perception:
"I doubt our subject is on the barge, but I'll take a look," Emerion volunteers. "More likely it's what it looks like: a smuggling boat. Keep an eye on the water for me." After a moment to check that the pier is safe, Emerion glides out onto it, one eye on the boat and one on the dark water. Perception: Trap-finding
"Hmmm. Or this may be the home of whoever sails that boat. I would guess that it indicates that the Arkonas are not always happy paying the crown's trade tariffs. Still, I'm glad it's here - it offers us another means of exiting these tunnels than just depending on Lord Arkona." Emerion continues down as well.
"As did I," Emerion murmurs, taking point. He checks the bridge for traps before they descend. Perception: (Trapfinding) At the first ledge he also checks the door carefully. Perception: (Trapfinding)
Nicola's healing energy surges through Emerion and he darts in to attack Phillipe's enemy. Attack #1: Damage: Attack #2: Damage:
The scimitar scrapes Emerion, but he evades the worst of the blow thanks to Philippé's spell Attack #1: Damage: Attack #2: Damage: Threat Confirm #1: Damage: Threat Confirm #2: Damage:
Seeing his rapier had more effect, Emerion resorts back to it. He's bloody and reeling . Attack: Damage: Attack: Damage: Threat Confirm: Damage:
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Emerion leashes out with his light mace at the first skeleton: Attack: Damage: Attack: Damage:
Initiative: Fort Save:
Coughing, Emerion pulls his scarf across his face and readies his rapier to attack the first foe that emerges from the mist.
Attack: Damage:
Emerion will lead the way. Perception:
"Well then, let's see what we can do," Emerion steps forward to take point. Perception: Em draws his light mace in his free hand.
Emerion listens thoughtfully to the discussion. "In Imperial Cheliax, accidents happen frequently amongst the nobility." He flicks a glance at the priestess, and nods slightly. Something more going on here than meets the eye, or that Lord Arkona is telling. "I'm as prepared as I will ever be," he declares aloud. "We rested before we came here..." he glances at Phillippe. Two casters against one, with Nicola as well - so as long as we stick together, we should be good. With Varlis a better archer, it looks like it's up to me to keep a blade between our enemies and my friends.
Sense Motive: "Aye, we can make the attempt to get him back," Emerion nods thoughtfully. "What could we expect in these caverns?"
"Oh, it's normal for Korvosa as well. The Arkona's are known for their championing of the cause of the downtrodden here," Emerion speaks up. Until now he has let Heather do the talking. There was a lot of praise going on, but at the same time, something didn't feel right...
Emerion lingers with Rowena. "I don't know when I'll be back," he tells her. "I can only promise you that one way or another, I will be."
"Let's go," Emerion nods. "Just let me change into my less conspicuous gear," he adds. He retires and quickly changes, throwing his normal shirt, coat, and breaches over Blackjack's armour the way he covered his mail shirt, and rolling up the cloak but keeping it handy for use. "I'm ready," he reports simply.
"Oh I'm in for the duration, though it may be the end of us Desna shall decide."
"We fight a spiritual sickness using spells and enchanted weapons, and you tell us a fortune teller is nonsense?" Emerion counters. "Zellara is no charlatan, but a reader of the fates of...unique origin."
Perception: Emerion watches closely...
"A question, if I may, Lady Zallara," Emerion speaks up. "We know where the Seneschel is being held, but not why. Can you tell us if the Arkona's are friend or foe to us and our cause?"
Emerion tears his attention away from Rowena for a moment. "A woman carrying a tun of ale is a reference to a priestess of Cayden Cailean, after all he's the god of ale," Emerion grins. "A man with two masks, well isn't Nethys the god of magic, and you my friend are a wizard are you not?" Emerion points out. "So Istas dreamed about you both. Your in a falling house that's on fire, and the city's been going to hell in a hand-basket lately. Going outside to fight the fire, well I'd say that if you want to help the city you'll have to leave it soon in order to save it. Probably us too," Emerion shrugs. "I like the sound of that ending though, it's the most optimistic thing I've heard all year." Emerion pauses as Zallara enters, and bows respectfully.
"And Morino, this may help - it's a formula a friend of ours came up with that helps treat the bloodveil, I would imagine if anyone can source the ingredients, you can. I don't know what's going to happen next, so I want this in dafe hands just in case." Emerion hugs Rowena close, and says softly to her: "I wish I could stay, but events are going on that have to be stopped, and I've shouldered a burden to help fix them that may be more than I can carry at the best of times - but I have to try. But if we live, my love, if we can lift this threat from the city I swear I'll make you my wife, if you will have me."
Emerion glances at Heather. "I think we'll try being open about it, to begin with. The other option will only get a lot of people killed, and it may not be necessary, much though I'd like to go in like a swashbuckler."
"I want to ensure Rowena is all right, and keep Istas informed if you don't mind," Emerion replies. "But that will only take us a few minutes. I'd feel safer with Istas watching Pilts than anyone else."
"I don't think this is going to be a regular social call," Emerion murmurs.
"If they intended to oppose the Queen, would they not have used the Seneschel already?"
"It would seem that the Arkona's have the Seneschel, and I am fairly sure that it's not willingly on his part. We need to find him - he's the only person with the legal power to rein in the Queen. I don't think this will be easy, the Arkona's are powerful and have always played their own game here."
"Given Istas is going to be busy, I agree, we may well need their help. It seems the Red Mantis have been very busy here." Emerion leads the way over to the pair. "Sorry about that...I think we need to talk to you both. Matters are afoot that are of dire consequence, and you both seem able to handle yourselves when there's trouble."
"What? You mean the Arkona's have him?"
"You do? Why in Desna's name didn't you tell us before?" Emerion exclaims. "Where is he?"
"Aye, we shall," Emerion murmurs back, and turns to the de Talevera's. "Can you wait a while for us to talk in private? I wouldn't want to keep you from your work but this is important." He keeps his voice pitched low so few enough around can hear.
"I don't care to guess what she's doing, other than massaging her own ego," Emerion murmurs. "We're trying to find the seneschal but he seems to have vanished, and he's the last hope this affair can be ended without a civil war."
"Desna curse me for an idiot!" Emerion slaps his head. "There is a herbal treatment that some healers came up with from the notes we recovered," Emerion fishes in one pocket. "Here it is! It's not a cure, but if you can find the components it should help the afflicted through the worst." Emerion slips off the "throne" and descends to give the paper to Nicola. "As for when the bridges will be re-opened, I am not sure we should look for help from that direction."
"Already done, my friend," Emerion assures them. "The chief doctor was executed a few days ago, and the rest of them - all cultists of Urgathoa - slain or run out of the city. We know, we unveiled their plot to the city. You're welcome to anything around here you need save our personal gear, and I'm sure we can help find you some manpower too."
"If we had one, we'd have been handing it out already," Emerion replies seriously. "We're no mercenaries, just concerned people standing up for our own, the people of Korvosa. The only cure we know of is either the blessings of the gods or to see the illness through with care and rest - I've been stricken with it, and I'm not the only one. At least now that the source of bloodveil has been exposed - brought deliberately in boxes containing gold from some other land, and deliberately spread by the so-called healers the Queen employed - if we can keep those still with it isolated from those who have not caught it, it will with luck die away."
Emerion adds his own judge of character of the plaintiffs as he can. He clearly finds this tedious, but makes the effort for Heather's sake and because he knows things could be far worse without any leadership. As much as possible he encourages people to reach their own peace with one another. "At last, someone around here who did something to help people," Emerion sighs with relief when the Talavera's are introduced. "Welcome Philip and Nicola to the..Peoples Tribunal of Old Korvosa. How may we help you?" "Aye, what can we do for you both? It sounds like you've achieved something useful around here and that's no mean feat. Pilts didn't put much store by medicines, though, so we don't have much we can offer save maybe getting some people motivated to help each other more."
"The first king probably expected what was coming. I certainly never envisaged being in charge of anything," Emerion replies. He has ditched the blackjack costume and mask for more familiar clothing, though he keeps the armour under his coat and shirt. "Istas has gone to take care of things with Rowena, Desna bless her," he continues. "We can't keep Pilts like this forever, though I don't like the idea of killing him in cold blood...we could arrange a trial, I suppose." Emerion starts to pace. "Who could be judge? Not us. We're his enemies. Same goes for the Arkonas." Emerion stops, and snaps his fingers. "Not the queen, we don't trust her." "I have it! In Andoran they govern by each man having a vote....let's try him that way. We have a group of ordinary men and women hear the evidence, and vote him guilty or innocent. How does that sound?"
With Blackjack's gear Emerion is looking at over 55000gp worth of kit on him. Suffice to say I do not expect any upgrades of his gear for a few levels. I think we must be close to levelling, but 6th is where I remember us as being at. No opinion either way on another player. It'd be nice, but not essential.
"They certainly seem to have their own part of the Old City in order," Emerion mutters.
"Let's retire, then. I can't see the point of raising a rebellion - yet. Especially not with what amounts to an untrained mob. We need move ourselves out of the limelight. What do you want to do with Pilts?"
With a grin and a bow Emerion jumps back up onto the platform. "Good people of Old Korvosa, the time has come for you to show your mettle, not in warfare but in humanity: Go to your homes, to your families. Care for the sick and infirm, ensure the hungry have food, and we will weather this storm! The Queen of Injustice will not send help, so we must help one another! For now, I bid you farewell!"
Emerion grins and hands over the axe, stepping back to give the man a clear swing. "Be my guest," he urges.
Diplomacy: Aid another?
Emerion grabs the great-axe from one of his former foes and jumps up onto the platform with the guillotine. "People of the Old City, the rulers of Korvosa may have chosen to ignore us, but that is no reason to turn upon one another! Pilts was a foolish demagogue, do not let his words turn you against one another. It is together that we have strength! Help your neighbours, stand together, show one another compassion and together we can triumph over this plague. Let's throw down this symbol of oppression, it's no better than the decadent trollop that sits on the Crimson Throne and we do not need such things to be the people of Korvosa, the greatest city in Varisia!" Turning he jams the haft under the guillotine. "Come on! Help me turn this monstrosity into the firewood that will serve us far better!"
"I'll deal with that," Emerion declares, arriving late to the party, "bring him forward...the people need to see this.". Turning he darts back down the passageway to make a dramatic reappearance. "Pilts is our prisoner!" he declares to the mob.
Emerion turns and runs for the exit, going after Pilts.
He'll leave the corpse alone. With Heather's retconned action if the Web is there he will skirt it, looking for Pilts. If not, he'll go straight to where Pilts is (presumably) hiding behind his throne, with a readied action to run him through if he doesn't surrender.
Salvatore is in trouble! I should help, but Blackjack can't be seen to flee the fight! "Varlis! Heather! We have this, one of you help Salvatore!" Emerion darts back a step to deliver two thrusts up at Jabbyr, seeking to take him out of the fight. Attack: Damage: Attack (haste): Damage:
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