Panish leans back, "Wow. Who knew? Blackjack of all people..." he has a calculating look, then nods to himself. "I need to follow-up on some things at the temple. I'll see you guys later." With that he gets up and heads out for Iomedae's temple.
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Panish thinks quick, he's worried that with the queen's guard at hand - and a riotous, panicked crowd on the other - that things will descend into an unpleasant memory. He tries to get up a higher vantage point along the wooden stairs and calls out: "Korvosans! This is no time for an execution - matters will be addressed; please stay calm and leave in an orderly fashion!"
Panish, likewise, pushes himself to the front of the crowd, and tries to see if he can figure out if something's amiss. A drugged 'Trinia', compelled, or some sign of innocence. Perhaps he recognizes her as some street harlot, pickpocket, addict or other petty street girl that nobody would miss.
"My good Sergeant Drakus, why I don't know what you're talking about. Me, I'm here to make sure nothing bad happens."
Panish grins over Donagar, from behind. "Who you calling a pansy you little runt?" It's little wonder Donagar hadn't recognized him. Panish isn't wearing any of his usual embellishments, tokens of Iomedae or much of anything else that could link the person before them to Panish, other than his longsword. "I don't care for myself, but if things run afoul here I don't want undue blame to fall to Iomedae."
"So justice is been seen to get done," Panish's face curls in disgust. "This is a mockery of the law. Commander, I thank you for your information and understand that our hands are tied." He smiles, but in a dead-pan voice adds, "I, perhaps the others as well, shall go to the execution. To ensure that nothing goes wrong."
"Thank you Commander. You know how to get hold of me," Panish bows and leaves, heading for the temple of Iomedae. Just for the moment he goes only through the perfunctory regulations - to get to his quarters and a fresh change of clothes (after a rigorous and hot bath).
Panish looks to Cressida. He's rather exhausted from the ordeals - and as such has not been giving proper attention to the citizens cries. On reflection, now, he asks: "Fieldmarshall - what is going on outside? They say the traitor Trinia will hang in the morning, how is this possible?"
"Not yet, remember the screaming we heard? There's people down in the pit, or elsewhere!" Panish checks to make sure.
"I say no. This brute has not the sense to understand consequence of his actions. Prolonging his life for the courts would be cruel."
Seeing a moment's inattention in the beast, Panish slashes his sword of his own. Then sidesteps to not be easily bullrushable into the pit.
Panish, his arms pinned to his side by the brute reclines his head then thrusts it forward - smashing his forehead into the hulk's nose. "Iomedae's head will crush your skull you oversized boy!"
"You foul creature! What do you think you're doing?! CEASE AND DESIST!"
"Yes. Hurry - I think a lady is being accosted."
"Aye. This accursed place needs the thorough attention of the church of Pharasma," Panish declares. "What was that noise?"
"Aha!" Panish rushes back in, examining what turns out to be the derro's quite lifeless corpse. "Well done Donagar! We couldn't have done it without you."
Panish gloomy. Well, if people could see him, he'd look gloomy, right now he just is completely hidden in the darkness. "Anybody here know how long this kind of things lasts? The darkness I mean."
"Hah! I can hear it! You're evil will be vanquished soon!"
Panish moves towards Donagar, his voice raised as he walks, "Fiend! This darkness will not ensnare us! Behold how the powers of good hold sway even in this blackness!" "There! Fight with confidence and know that the gods won't abandon us."
"Don't you dare try to run, evil-doer! Your minutes are numbered! Iomedae's steel is already upon you!" Panish tries to up-the-ante on his previous intimidate attempt, but in the dark he's left without a proper direction to focus on - and his words echo hollow in the room.
Panish tries to generally gauge the direction of their foe and blusters into the darkness: "You foul abomination! Iomedae will seek out your heart and cleave the evil from it leaving nothing but a hollow husk!"
Panish's voice has an upset timbre, "Iomedae's beard! This is enough with this dark tomfoolery! Can somebody fix this?"
Panish gets close to Donagar, readying himself to strike at the flying critter if he comes. "Iomedae will fell you, foul master of the dead!"
Panish follows after Sgt Drakus as swiftly as he can. He brandishes his shield - the symbol of Iomedae glowing brightly as he does so - and lays his hand on the burly warrior. A soothing blue shimmer radiates out from the point of touch, soothing over some of the wounds the veteran has received.
Panish hangs back with Marra, "Not much to do with these two big fellas clearing the way, ey? But keep sharp to spot the necromancer - or whatever is cackling so insidiously."
"heh - there'll still be plenty to fight, but these necromancers rarely have just one abomination doing their bidding."
Panish mutters softly, as to not let distant cacklers hear: "Okay then, I guess we'll do this the hard way..."
"Necromancers, flesh-loving alchemists, dark clerics, oracles of bones, and just plain madmen - take your pick," Panish mutters. "But this plan of yours. I like it, let's have a look around!"
Panish smirks at Donagar, "And here I thought you Caileans advocated the big alehall in the sky?"
"Disrespectful... is what was done to these bodies. This abomination needs to be deconstructed. The Shoanti we can identify at least, but the rest; I suspect we'll have to simply inter them as is. If more is needed, the Temple of Pharasma will know what to do."
Panish packs what books he deems most vile in his pack, handing some more to the others to carry. "This will have to do, no time like the present to conquer a domain of evil!"
"No Sgt Drakus, it's not as simple as that. There may be any number of fell volumes here - and this may be one of the last opportunities to get at them. We know there are secret passages all over - and it is likely that whoever is deeper in this complex knows about our presence by now. It is quite possible that they'll circumvent us and get their most vile treasures in book form before making good their escape." Panish's eyes glow ever so faintly as he speaks.
"Yes. Let's move while the going is good. This light here is a blessing, cursed darkness - don't want none of it!" Panish is actually smiling as he says it; enjoying the caper a bit more than he's letting on.
"Speaking of... where do we go now? Is it just this one way forward?"
"Ah! Light! Much better. Donagar - can you explain why you dwarfs seem to be able to see anything in that black mess called darkness?"
"Iomedae's beard!" Panish mutters as he struggles back to his feet.
Panish stumbles over something, plummeting harshly to the floor. Accompanied by irate pseudo-dragon chittering.
Trying to interpret the excited chittering of the little pseudo dragon, Panish cautiously moves forward in what seems to be the right direction according to the purr-growling noises coming from the little creature; then when it seems to be time he violently strikes at the square Chi-chi indicates.
Panish hears Sgt Drakus efforts and tries to stay out of the way. He readies himself to strike back at any little derro, while moving cautiously towards where he remembers the door to be (that the derro must've entered through).
"Oh. Aye. Sure I'll just wait for these creatures to come for me. Hah! By Iomedae's beard - I'll give'em hell!"
Panish calls out to the little dragon, "Chichi!? Can you see in this darkness? Please come sit on my shoulder and direct me to these little creeps."
"Ya, I'm looking for a live one."
"Where? Where are the little creeps?" Trying to orient himself against how he remembers the layout before the lights went out Panish pushes forward with his shield a few steps, hoping to walk into an enemy. His longsword is steady at the ready to strike back at a foe.
"Little blighters!" Panish bounds to the nearest and slashes at it.
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