Ensis glances towards where his contact has moved into the retreating crowd for a brief moment of regret before turning to the guards opposite. He tries to punish the newly arrived guard from aiding his comrade.
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Moving to one side the first figure clutches at a sharp rock and tries to draw away the massive beast, his eyes widen despite the gloom staring at the umbral leonine figure. It's claws seem as large as his head and it's maw could encircle his waist. With only a gauzy sheet wrapped around his waist he bellows to the creature; "Uther... Uther...." By which action he names himself!
From our of the darkness there's a roar and a magnificent beast larger than the quartet put together appears at the edge of the lantern-light.
Thus this is the end of the adventure, I know you can do some finalising posts if you wish. It's been a long one for us all. I'll finish the PFS stuff next week/whenever. Now I'm happy to run another scenario, or small game (PFS or not) - depending upon what people want to do. Although, you know, at least weekly posts would be appreciated :P
The group walk purposefully across the courtyard, past the ancient tree planted there. It's dark bows casting a shadow from the lights upon the wall. With a soft plod the group move up the stone staircase inside the far building, the stairwell has the faint smell of fresh wood, polish and power. Soon they are stood before the doors to the Venture-Captains office; they ominously swing open at the approach and a deep voice booms out. "Enter." Ambrus Valsin stands behind his over-large desk, a scowl upon his face and his bushy side-burns abristle. He picks up a large pile of paper-work on the leather desk-top, riffling through it. He looks to the group with serious eyes; "I gave you a task, a simple task to familiarise yourself with the various factions - whilst achieving some straight-forward tasks. What did you do...." he looks at the group with dark serious eyes.
He drops the stack of papers on the desk, the spill forth the uppermost managing to slide all the way to the floor. "You...you..." he looks to each person in turn. ~~~the pause seems to stretch~~~ "...did admirably. Certainly it wasn't the most straight-forward and concise mission, but that's where you excelled. Taking adversity and turning it on it's head." he transitions smoothly his rich baritone holding a note of respect. "Capturing criminals, dealing with the more nefarious elements of our organisation, the deceptive and cunning one and the seductive ones." He reaches into his desk and produces 7 disks, brass and silver in an intricate design. "Pathfinder Badges, symbols of your authority. All who see them know who you are. Your skill, cunning, strength, ingenuity." he slides them across the expanse of leather to the group. He holds out his hand, for a firm handshake. "You deserve them."
"Over there, up the stairs!" the guard says simply pointing across the courtyard with a free hand. "I'm sure you'll be fine." they glance over the party, keeping their tone guarded, as they move towards the stable block. Plod decides to co-operate knowing their is some food forthcoming.
Under Mai's supervision they take all the items from the ambushers, with Itra being required to sign a chitty of authenticity and authority. After signing the papers, in triplicate, the Lance-Corporal waves them good-bye before turning back to the other guards. Barking some orders at the junior officers, is the last thing the group hears as they rush off forward to deliver the items to Captain Valsin. Streets have become more crowded as the suns path drops towards the horizon. Sky is filled with orange and pink hue reflected from the thin fluffy clouds that drift. Moving back towards the Grand Lodge, Plod bulls his way to create a gap - though even he glances up at the beautiful sunset. Soon the grand wrought iron gates of the Lodge stand before you, intricate designs interweaving with the vertical bars. A tall figure in silvered ceremonial armour of The Gatekeeper ushers them inside; "Hurry Captain Valsin is awaiting you, I'll take care of your donkey." he reaches out to grasp the reigns of Plod. Entering the citadel; upon the far-side of the court-yard is the stairs leading upto the leader of the Great-Lodges chambers. The single tree stands illuminated by the peach hue of the setting sun, whilst the first blossoms struggle to present themselves.
With a snap of his heels the guardsman returns the salute to Mai; "Aye, duty beckons."
The lance constable gets out his worn service booklet and starts writing in it. He licks his pencil and scribbles furiously, a look of determination etched across his face. He finally sighs, whilst his colleagues put the halfling in cuffs and bustle around the unconscious attackers. Finally the lance-constable rips a sheet out of his booklet and hands it to the group. "You said you wanted to be on your way? We've got these men sorted." Note: "For the capture of Miss Foster & 3 other wanted criminals, please pay Itra Javek & her associates the sum of 903 gold pieces.
Upon this day, xxxx Signed
Itra: Yep he's a guard. And they are offering a reward for the capture of these 4 'dangerous' criminals. It isn't that unusual especially with adventurers out there. Of course 'private' rewards are illegal (or frowned upon if they have enough political clout).
The lance-corporal looks at the Pathfinder badge that Galfon shows him; "Yeah, well...." he looks around shiftily. "Sorry about that, cannot be too careful." He reaches out, and grabs the halfling by the collar; "Oi ya blighter, where do you think you're off to." the moustachio'd barbarian shrugs. A look of recognition slips across the officials face; "Mr Ledford, I do believe we have a warrant for your arrest. And most probably for your compatriots." He drags the short man with him as he looks at the others, whilst from the end of the alley a small patrol of watchmen turn up. "Mr Waever... Deandre Dulay....and" he takes a breath at the sorceress; "Miss Foster. Good reward for these."
His eyebrows are brought together in concentration as he tries to remeber something. The suddenly he stands a bit straighter and looks Itra in the eyes; "Constable Javek, sorry sir I didn't recognise you." he throws back his shoulders, looking slightly guiltily. The halfling man scuffs his heels; "I do like a good reunion, how's about I'll be on my way?" he adds cheekily.
Galfon:
The guard appears genuine, but he's slightly afeared by the injured and the seven living people that still stand. He's also not sure of your credentials Jutting his chin out he replies directly to Mai; "Yes, guardsmen are formidible." he announces.
"Guardsman??" he says scratching his head, but standing proprietorially over the alleyway. He looks around at the group, suspiciously. There's a low groan that brings him back to his senses and he moves around all the dying, ensuring their conditions will not worsen. However he does keep an eye upon the group....
The gruff constable trotts up to the group, a disapproving look on his face. "Shakedown for drugs?" he adds in a certain tone. His hand going to the truncheon hanging from his belt.
The halfling holds out a potion vial for anyone to take, a wry smile on his face. Suddenly into the end of the alley rushes a sandy haired man, with a brush of stubble. Thick leather jerkin, polished to a shine despite having seen better years, creaks slightly and upon the chest there's the bronze crest of the guard. "'Ello, 'ello, 'ello. What's going on 'ere then?" he asks of the group.
"Well, I won't offer you 12 gold each then." he slyly winks. "I know you guardsmen are incorruptible." the halfling tries to keep a straight face underneath his fancy moustache. "Even if it would save all the trouble of a trial." from the end of the alleyway there's the sound of padding feet approaching.
"Well, they are a bunch of busy-bodies. You should let me go.... I do have 10 gold and a healing potion you can use?" the moustachioed halfling offers, hoping to bargain for his freedom. "Plus it's such work talking to the watch."
"Whaaaat?" he says literally scratching his head. "I don't get your meaning. And I don't have the means to bribe your judges, let me go - don't be mean." he looks around puzzled, the other hand clasped to his side.
"What Deandre said it would be easy pickings, some Pathfinder pansy's with impressive loot. And I'd get to test my skills." he says ruefully. "Whilst Halli's just a psycho, kill you soon as look at you." he adds nodding as Samara picks a potion from the unconscious leader. In the distance there's a whistle as there's the sounds of a guardsman rushing to the scene.
"How about, I tell you my friends have healing potions and you let me go?" he twirls his moustache.
"I'll just git up and be orf, then." he winks.
"Aye, suppose I must." he says looking around at all his fallen companions, the large axe falls from his fingers. "That was a good draw, I suppose." he says breathlessly, getting his feet under his legs - still upon the floor.
Rook's thrust is exemplary and manages to take the halfings legs out from under him. He hits the cobbles hard the air whomps from him, however the furious rage transforms to a crazed smile and he lucidly speaks. "Very good, nice technique bird..." he glances at Rook from his prone position, "...boy. Get your opponent on the floor so he cannot run, then bash out his brains. Of course you have to" he slashes with his heavy axe at Rook for his seated position. "keep up your defences." he concludes with a nod of respect as the tengu dodges back from his swing.
Mai's temple sword cleaves into his shoulder forcing him to change his stance. He's only kept up by the adrenaline flowing through his veins. "Nice shot. How's about you Birdy? Gonna use your stick?" the halfling questions with a wink.
Eddie's shot is close, however the whirl of combat keeps it from the small fierce mans' body. The sonic scream is however much more effective, even against the raging halfling. "Give up, well - test me and see if you are like the bizzie 'ere."
Samara's thrust with the rapier is enough to disturb the casting of the spell. Thus it's only moments later, when Galfon's lethal arrow thuds into Halli. Ledford is stood alone, a wild beserker amongst enemies. Through his head runs the tales of the hero's of the past, holding off evil enemies. He smiles wildly as he decides to prove his worth.
Scintilating colours fill the end of the alleyway, capable of stunning those too close.
Ledford looks wild-eyed, slightly shocked that his comrades are not doing well. "You are worthy opponents with your butterfly familiars. However we still require your cash." He sweeps his big chopper at Mai.
The arrow flies from the Holy Hunters bow and arc's cross the alley way. With the sound of a steak being dropped on the floor it slams into Halli's sternum, her eyes go wide. With a tentative touch to the wound, she opens her mouth showing bloody red teeth. "Oh, you'll pay for that...." her breathing is ragged.
Halli starts to cast as Samara closes in on her. Colour Spray!
Halli cackles maniacally; "Come on have a go if you think you're hard enough! Let's have a bath in your blood little silly elves."
Larking puts up a brilliant defence as he swats away the butterflies except Samara just over comes it stabbing him heavily where his hauberk meets the trousers. With a groan he slumps against the alley walls, a blood smear vivid against the dark stone.
The rapier stabbing into his kidneys brings him out to realisation that he's flanked and any movement will cause him to be impaled more. Thus he stabs out at Samara.
Halli steps back 5', readying a spell. "You'll all die. Ledford get them." Ledford is dazed and confused.
Eddie's shot flies true, Halli sneers at the injury. "Take more than that to hurt me." she cackles.
"Oh, that's a blue admiral." Larkin says glassy-eyed. Then Samara's rapier slides into his distracted back.
The arrow thuds into the distracted halfling, he barely flinches as the metal arrowhead penetrates his flesh. Whilst Rook steps forward and flicks a flurry of swings towards the swerving barbarian.
GM Stuff:
"Tee-hee copper falls in the gutter. Her eye's a flutter." the halfling shrieks in a sing-song voice.
With the massive 2 handed axe Ledford hews at Itra: "Here can I axe you a question? Give me you cash." the swing of the huge head almost spins him around. A crazed look in his eyes.
Whilst the blonde lady to the rear of the party smiles her fingers describing an arcane sign weaving a green blob of ectoplasm from thin air. With a motion she sends it flying towards Rook.
The woman D'andre, is not ready for such a swift attack. Galfon moves forward to look around Rook and lets his arrow fly, it sings a song of doom as it thuds into the shoulder of the plain smocked woman. Then with lightening reactions Mai rushes forward infront of Itra and smites the leader. The powerful two-handed swing catches her in the ribs, she lets out a groan as blood bubbles from between her lips. With a sigh, the plain-clothed man steps atop her dying form and thrusts his rapier at the Tian monk.
Whilst the moustached halfling darts forward to , probably activating Rook and Itra's readied attacks....
At the back of the group, the blonde lady smiles viscously seeing the people advance.
"Test, my bottom." the leader snarls; "Give us your cash." She looks to the halfling; "Take it from their corpses."
"Why don't you hand over all your gold, that box and your weapons? Then we might part as friends - rather than my friends parting you!" says the sensibly dressed sunset haired lady in a sharp voice.
GM Stuff: Deandre, AC16; HP12 Shield of Faith R1
Halli; AC16; HP8 Ledford, AC15; HP17 Larkin, AC17; HP10
Walking up the alleyway, which is quite cluttered but not to dirty, a mist slowly starts to form. Plod snorts angrilly with a slight tug on his reins. Citizens nearby seem to move quickly, past you - clearing out of the way. The reason for this becomes clear as the mist do likewise. A scarlet haired woman, with a high-necked blouse and a long flowing dark skirt with silvered threads. A stout garment that is the opposite of the Chelaxian ambassors.
With a trilling reply, a tengu with a saffron and azure scarf spins around. Her dance wild and with abandon as the group fill up the whole street. Itra, Mai, the young pathfinders walk forward with Plod walking at their side. Rook: Rook sees nothing out of the ordinary for a street party of performance. Whilst some of the other road users walk down the alleyways.
There's at least 20 to 30 of the brightly coloured people, some indistinguishable from illusions, as the cavort perform and prance with a certain flair.
As afternoon slides inexorably into evening, the sun starts to dip below the horizon. The group progresses rapidly through the crowded city; taking the most direct route back through the foreign quarter. It gets busier and busier with vendors and crowds milling about on the streets; the exotic spiced scents assail the nostrils to counter the pervasive stench of the districts over-crowded populace. Animals roam the streets, bedecked with vivid colours and all manner of trinkets. Buildings are rendered with many differing styles and an equal amount of colours that subtly clash with one another. Shabby streets give a well-lived in feel. A throng of people block the street up ahead. A performance art group commandeers the through-way, drawing graffiti to create a jolly hellscape complete with illusionary devils capering and comically dancing in circles. A few citizens avoid the crowd by slipping off the street to a nearby alley, the only egress past the gathering. GM Sekrit:
"Oh well, your loss." she flicks at her long sable hair, cascading down the contours of her body. "We are still the most powerful empire in the world and our gratitude is.... ample." Placing the letter-opener upon the plush antique desk she picks up a small bag; "Here, another bulging leather pouch, take it as a small mark of my pleasure." she offers it openly.
With one hand carefully taking the handle, the other slips off her shoes and massages her feet softly. Zarta's eyes don't leave Mai's countenance;"Rain-check, if you feel too tired tonight? Though Aldor is good at relieving weariness." she offers her servants services. Looking at the rest of the group sadly; "Anyone want to take me up on the offer? You could help me in the bedroom, it's an awful mess." she entices realising that though her blandishments are obvious, some may come back alone after the sun has set.
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