Patrum takes a seat near the others.
The name is Patrum. I look forward to working with you all and hopefully discovering the truth of what happened to my friends.
Ankara, who has been slouching and taking up more room than he strictly needs, sits up and makes room for the new addition to the table, nodding to the flame-haired dwarf respectfully.
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The woman’s voice can be heard from the back room of the tavern.
“Sorry. This is all I have in the kitchen at the moment for drinks.”
She comes out holding a tray. Sitting on the tray is a jug full of ale and a number of empty mugs, which she sets on a table next to the group. Seeing Sevegny, she smiles realising that another has arrived, nodding her head in Sevegny’s direction.
“Glad you can make it here! Hope you don’t mind the ale. It’s the only drink I’ve got around here at this time unfortunately.”
She looks around to see if anyone else has arrived, pouring the ale into the mugs whilst talking.
“We’re still waiting on a couple of people to arrive and the roast chicken will take some time before it’s ready to be served. Did any of you want a drink to pass some time whilst we wait for them?”
Saying that, she takes a mug to try the ale out, setting it down after taking a sip from the mug.
“Hrm, not great but hopefully it’s ok for everyone. Nobody minds the ale being a little warm do they?”
She pulls a chair to sit down and join the group in conversation leaving the ale free for anyone to take as they please.
“I’m sorry I haven’t taken the opportunity to introduce myself properly. It’s been a hectic day and I would’ve personally introduced myself to each of you earlier today if I had the time to. As you can see though the tavern is in quite a state of disrepair and I thought it’d be a good idea to spruce up the place a bit before you all arrived to make it a little more homely. That’s why I sent others out to invite you here.
I presume most of you know this already. I hope the messengers told you that my name is Janiven, but if not, now you know! I’m glad that you’re all able to make it. I realise it’s a bit of an awkward meeting and I’m sure you have a lot of questions but I would rather wait until everyone is here before we begin.”
Janiven takes a look around the tavern before continuing.
“So I presume everybody found this place without a problem? Nothing problematic occurring before arriving here I hope?”
Ankara revises his impression of the hostess from 'serving wench' to 'unlikely criminal mastermind,' pouring himself a mug of warm ale, sniffing it, wrinkling his nose critically, and then handing it to Marcellius.
"Your vows are safe, this is no luxury, I assure you." he looks at the ale with mild disapproval. "But it's probably safer than the water..."
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Marcellius sniffs the ale, then takes a swallow.
"You're right. Not a luxury. But in these times, the luxuries are in the hands of devils and the priests of Asmodeus. I am honored to share this non-luxury with you all."
He reaches forward for the now empty wooden goblet he had brought in with him, foul symbols of the Chelish empire carved into its design. It was a typical street vendor's cup, but Marcellius set it down again in obvious distaste.
Marcellius turns to Janiven.
"Thank you for your hospitality. What you have provided for us is more than enough."
Kyras eyes the jug of ale. Only someone paying close attention would be able to see the slight look of concentration on his face, like he was having a small battle of wills. He gently shakes his head to himself before speaking.
"Thank you for the offer my lady, but I'm trying to cut back on the alcohol these days. Though that roasted chicken sounds wondrous, and I am hungry....
"Anyway, my uncle didn't tell me much about you or exactly who these freedom fighters are, but I trust him to not steer me wrong. How many more are supposed to be showing?"
Approaching the tavern, Malcom unknowingly picks up his pace as the sun begins to cross the horizon. Arriving at the tavern door, he opens it and slips inside only to come face to faces with a room full of strangers. Before you stands a rather fair skinned man dressed in black and light blue clothing that is well taken care of but not elegant. He walks with the confidence of a nobleman, but with a subtleness that gives off agility. Looking around with a hint of surprise, the young noble quickly recovers as he smooths his hair back and grips the head of his heavy cane in a tight, white gloved grip. Then he proceeds to say, "Pardon the interuption, I just came in for a drink and a bit of refuge from the encroaching darkness. I didn't realize there was a private party happening here."
Patrum takes a mug of ale.
Thanks lass. I prefer my ale warm, I don't see why it should be served any other way.
He then turns to Sevegny.
I arrived in the city with some friends from Absalom, and we set up shop. They have all disappeared either at night, probably taken by whatever it is that lurks in the shadows, or taken by the guards during the day. I can no longer stand by and watch the city sink further into darkness. It's bad for business.
Ankara leans towards Patrum as if in drunken camaraderie and whispers, "The nobleman who just stumbled in admitted to not being invited, but just being lost. The wrong words can kill, here."
He then claps the dwarf on the back, and laughs, saying more loudly. "So where are you thinking of moving your business to, master Patrum? The markets of Katapesh, perhaps, where business is always brisk?"
That is a shame about the Elvish community lass. I have other non-mercantile pursuits in Cheliax, so I believe this is where I'll stay, for the time being at least.
Ankara's warning appears to have gone unheeded, so he instead gets up from the table to greet the new arrival, bringing a mug of ale with him.
"Welcome, stranger. Even though you were not invited to our 'private party,' feel free to enjoy a drink and stay awhile." he says loudly, with no trace of warmth to his features. He steps around behind the new arrival to stand by the door he just came in, making a motion as if to secure it, but really just obviously blocking the exit.
Once he's firmly planted in front of the door, he continues in a voice loud enough to carry across the room. "Since he's obviously heard us talking about things that will get us all tortured, hanged and possibly set on fire, do we tie him up until we are done here, or should I just kill him?"
From the flat tone of his voice, it sounds less like an intimidation attempt and more like a statement of intent...
Let's not be too hasty friend. Let the newcomer explain his presence before we decide how to proceed.
To Malcom
I find it hard to believe you wandered into this particular tavern by accident this night. I suggest an explanation as our friend there seems quite on edge.
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“No need to worry. The nobleman is here for the meeting just like the rest of you.”
Janiven stands up and motions for Malcom to sit in the chair she was in earlier welcoming him.
“I’m glad you could make it. I was beginning to get worried that my messenger gave you the wrong directions. We’re still waiting for someone to arrive but in the meantime, why don’t I serve dinner? By the way…”
Looking at Malcom, she extends an open arm pointing to the ale.
“Feel free to help yourself to the ale if you’re thirsty.”
Janiven walks to the back room once more this time producing a tray with plates and a spectacular roast chicken, plonking it on the table beside the ale.
“Alright, dinner is served! Who’s up for roast chicken?”
"Sounds delicious."
Kyras reaches forth and grabs a leg, digging in, realizing he hasn't eaten much today, as he was rather hung over earlier.
Without a trace of fear, Malcom smiles at Ankara's comment and thanks Janiven for her graciousness. After gathering up a plate of food, he will politely turn down the offer of ale as he sits and begins to eat. Removing his fine white gloves, any who looks can see that the young nobles hands are much rougher and calloused than one would expect a noble's hands to be and that Malcom's oaken cane with the silver handle is never far from his grasp.
To the others, the young noble says, "I do apologize for my slight ruse. Being a native of Westcrown, I've come to learn that things aren't as they always seem and have come to adopt that philosophy as my own. By the way, that reminds me... turning to Janiven, Malcom continues, "Please apologize on my behalf to your messenger, I feel that I may have come off as a little overly pompous, but as I have said, one can never truly know who one is dealing with in this city."
At Janiven's assurance that Malcolm is indeed one of those invited, Ankara moves from beside the door and moves to take the tray of chicken from her and sets it on the table for her.
Drawing his dagger, he cuts off a leg for himself, after looking around to see how many people are present. He doesn't seem to have much use for a plate.
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Marcellius waits until everyone else has grabbed a portion of food before cutting off a moderately sized sliver of tasteless white meat for himself.
After a few bites, he begins to realize that the chicken was roasted a little too perfectly. Even the "dry" places were rich in flavor.
"My compliments to the chef as well. This is exquisitely cooked. A little too rich for my tastes though. Perhaps there is something more plain?"
The armored gentleman lifts up his plate and offers the untouched pieces of meat to Sovegny. "Perhaps a lady of grace and beauty would be willing to indulge?"
Patrum takes several pieces of meat and begind to eat loudly, not paying any mind to the looks his manners might garner.
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Turning to Malcom, Janiven nods her head and replies,
“That’s understandable. I let my messengers know beforehand to expect anything as it is of course a sudden and unexpected invitation. I’ll pass the apology along to her.”
She then looks toward Marcellius, frowning slightly.
“Unfortunately I haven’t brought much else and the kitchen’s cupboards are bare. I apologise for that.”
Janiven takes a quick glance out the window. Shrugging, she grabs a large piece of the roast chicken, plonking it on a plate and eating it. After taking a few bites, she steals another glance out the window. Walking to the front door of the tavern, she looks down the streets.
She takes a long sigh, closing the front door and locking it. Janiven then walks over to the windows, drawing the blinds down, darkening the tavern’s atmosphere immediately. She begins to explain her actions in a calm manner,
“Do not be alarmed, I’m not holding you hostage here. The reason why I’m locking the front door and drawing the blinds down is because I don’t want anyone to intrude upon this meeting. This meeting will finish in an hour, giving all of us plenty of time to return home before the sun sets and the shadow beasts are set upon us.”
She turns to face the party, taking a deep breath before she speaks with great passion,
“Thank you once again for making it here on such short notice. I know we are meeting under very unusual circumstances but I have chosen each of you for a single reason. Each of you like me have suffered whether we realise it or not. I’ve lived in Westcrown all my life and I love this city, but I know as you do that despite its peace and prosperity, Westcrown continues to suffer. We should not have to fear for our lives every night, yet every night fear is right at our doorsteps! Yes we have been safe from war and famine, yes our businesses have prospered, but the safety and prosperity has been bought with coinage and prayers to Hell. Other lands live free from tyranny, and other governments definitely don’t let monsters take the streets of its city at night. Westcrown was once such a place and I know that it wants to be such a place again. Westcrown isn’t only its buildings, its canals, docks and history – it is also her people – friends, neighbours, mothers and fathers, siblings and cousins, our sons and daughters! With a small group of supporters and dedicated brothers and sisters, we can earn the trust and admiration of Westcrown’s people. A Westcrown free of the shadowy beasts stalking our streets is one step closer to a Westcrown free of the devil that is the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune!”
Janiven looks at the group, waiting for the reaction her speech had to everyone.
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Marcellius hesitates to respond as he looks down in remorse. Oaths and vows were sometimes difficult to maintain, but he had not intended to be rude.
"Forgive my rudeness, Mistress Janiven. You have provided the best for your guests, and it is not my place to question or refuse such hospitality. But I fear that my vows to my Goddess..." Marcellius hesitates, uncertain if he should continue. "To myself if Her divine essence is too far beyond my reach. My vows do not allow me to enjoy life as other men do."
Marcellius glances at the wooden wine cup he had brought in with him. "In a city of decay such as this one, it is all too easy to forget. To forget vows. To forget life. To forget that the taint of Shadow can be fought against. Aroden's statue stands forgotten. The temples of light are fallen. And we struggle as we can to remember the way things once were."
Marcellius lowers his voice to a hoarse, emotional whisper.
"And the way they can be once again. It is a part of my Oath to Arazni to lead by example. I have failed in that oath, numerous times it seems, and I still await the punishment that was meted out to my parents before me. Perhaps it is because the Red Crusade still lives within my heart. To bring Light and Order into existence by the sacrifices of my life's blood."
Marcellius drinks again from the tankard of ale before him, setting it down with a heavy thud as he draws within himself.
"I would make what sacrifices I can to see this city brought back to its beautiful glory. Temples devoted to the deities of light once filled this place. Arazni's crusaders among them."
He leans back in his chair, raising a hand to his face again as he wipes the back of his hand across his eyes.
"Now all that remains of this city's sacred honor are the empty chasses of the Lost and Forgotten. The families that once were known for their nobility are corrupted. And in all places where Light once shown bravely, only dust and shadows remains."
Marcellius muffles a sob, swallowing bitterly, angrily.
"If now is the time to act to see the darkness ended. I pledge my life and honor to seeing it done."
He sniffs, trying to dry his face again, though it is beset with uncertainty and no small amount of pain.
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Sevegny listens to Janiven and Marcellus with great intent. By the time the paladin finishes his oath, her eyes are red with tears.
"My goddess Calistria wants all creatures to live proud and free. I sense that she wants me to join this quest, to rid Westcrown of the forces of oppression. To this end I'll do anything you ask me to, Lady Janiven."
Ankara speaks up when Sevegny has finished. "My own people live in a prison of fear and doubt, of their own making. I came to the cities hoping to find free men, unafraid, only to find richer civilized, just as trapped by their own fear as the place I left behind."
"I chose long ago not to live like my parents, thinking only of glories long past, and pretending not to see that those times are gone and that they are a fallen people. And it seems that, if I must stand and fight, then this place is as good as any other."
I fear my objectives are not as altruistic as yours, but I must find my friends, or avenge their deaths. The ways of this city have become objectionable as well, so I feel this is the best way to achieve my goals as well as provide some help to put things right. Count me in.
True to form, Kyras is one of the last to speak.
"I was raised in this city and its streets. The people here are scared and oppressed, and most of us don't have somewhere to place our anger and sadness at the state of things, and so many, most, treat each other horribly."
Kyras sits forward in his chair, calmly, yet with immense intensity continues.
"I have learned that to survive and get ahead in this city, one must use people, step on them in the figurative sense. I learned this lesson well, and it has nearly broken me. I NEVER wanted to be like that. I cannot stand the deception I've had to use."
Kyras stands, getting a little louder, but not yelling.
"At the heart of this insane social order is this country's fiendish influence, and the house of Thrune, something that one man cannot stand against. But here, we have allies, and that gives me something I've never truely felt before, hope. Before today, I was either going to snap and try to fight this on my own, or just give up, lay down and die. Now I have people to stand with me as I fight, and I will not stop until the house of Thrune is cast out, I will not stop until those devils leave our presence. I will not stop until the current social order is DEAD!"
Listening to the words of all those gathered in this room, Malcom will wait until all have said their piece, then, finishing a bit of chicken, Malcom will rise and say in a calm, even tone, "Like out host, I too have lived in this fair city for many, many years. And while I have never seen these shadow beasts or felt the oppression by the government that many of you seem to have endured, I have seen horrors that would destroy other men. I have seen friends give up their souls and relatives lose their sanity in the deals that they have made with beings foul and cruel. If it were not for a simple traveling monk, I too may have been one of the ones to lose themselves in the decadence and depravity that runs through this city's government. And while I am loath to fight against the laws that run this city, a city of affluence that is backed by corruption such as this, is not long for this world. If I do not step up and do something, all that I have held dear, all those who have been lost to the powers that truly run our city would have been for nothing."
Then, turning to Janiven, the young noble coninues, "I will fight with you, not against the law or the structure of government, but against the oppression and shadows that have taken ahold of the city." With that, Malcom sits back down, still calm and collected, but the intensity of the man's words showed the desire that the man kept in check.
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Janiven nods her head, seemingly approving of the responses she just heard.
“Thank you each of you. I know...”
Her words are cut short by a sudden knocking on the front tavern door. Janiven’s head snaps towards the direction of the door, alarmed by the sudden sound. The knocking becomes more frantic as she approaches the door, tavern key in one hand. A muffled male voice can be heard on the other side of the door, sounding quite distressed.
“Janiven! You in there!? It’s me Morosino. Let me in! Quickly!!! Hurry!”
Janiven quickly unlocks the door upon hearing who it is.
Managing a few short steps into the tavern, a terribly ruffled young teenage male human collapses by the door. Gasping for breath, he manages to utter out a few words.
“Dottari... Arael... captured... Hellknights coming!”
Janiven quickly closes and relocks the door as she heard the words uttered out of the boy’s mouth. Looking somewhat confused, Janiven asks the young man to explain what is happening.
“Morosino, calm down. What happened? What do you mean Arael has been captured? Start from the beginning.”
Morosino takes a few seconds to calm and compose himself. He manages to sit himself in a cross-legged position on the tavern floor, he looks at Janiven, ignoring everyone else and spurts out,
“The Dottari have nabbed Arael and the Hellknights are trying to get custody of him! There’s a bunch of Hellknights on their way here now! I only just made it here; they’ve already surrounded us!”
Hearing what Morosino just said the sound of clanking armour can be heard outside, with it growing louder every passing second.
“Here already!?” Janiven exclaims.
Ankara gets his feet, black locks whipping around angrily as he looks in all directions at once, like a startled cat.
"Is there another way out of here, woman?" he says to Janiven, before resolving to die with a full belly and seizing a hunk of meat off of the chicken with his hand, and shoving it into his mouth.
Mouth full, he moves with purpose towards the kitchen, seeking for a source of oil, for cooking or use in a lantern to light the place, muttering around his impromptu meal, "We can burn the place down behind us, make it impossible for them to follow..."
Patrum jumps up from his chair.
We must think logically. Are we prepared for ten Hellknights? It may be better to find an alternate route from this place. If there is none, we must do our best to send them to pits they so admire.
Patrum walks to the corner of the room farthest from the front door and waits for an answer from the innkeeper.
"Everyone remain calm!" Malcom says in an intense whisper as he takes a quick peek out the door, "We will not last in a fight against ten well trained Hellknights so if flight is not an option, then the ruse is our best bet. Jan, is there another way out of this place, if there is no way out, then might I suggest we make a party of it. Though this be a run down place, ideal for secretive meetings it is also ideal for having a quiet dinner party among a group of friends."
Kyras nods in agreement to Malcom's plan.
"One catch though. If we use that, we'd have to figure why the kid ran here for shelter, and why we let him in."
Kyras turns to the kid.
"Do they know that you're involved with your friend that they've captured?"
His hand reaches for his crossbow, just in case it's neccessary.
"Also, if this is just a quiet dinner among friends, and not a secret meeting, then why are we all armed?"
Sevegny tries to remain calm but cannot stop her hands from shaking.
"I favor deception over confrontation. I agree with Malcolm that we are already well disguised as a private gathering of friends."
"Yes, we are already well disguised, but that doesn't mean they aren't gonna ask questions, and we're gonna need answers."
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Janiven looks towards the party, quickly responding to the current situation.
“There’s no use reasoning with the Hellknights. As Kyras explained, even if we said it was a quiet party, we would have to explain why Morosino ran here. Knowing what he might be involved in it’ll be impossible to get out of the situation either way. They are also ruthless and will kill anyone that they suspect are rebels without question. That is their nature. I’m sorry everybody. I was expecting to be finished up any moment. This is an unexpected turn of events and...”
A loud pounding on the door can be heard and a booming voice behind the tavern’s front door yelling.
“Open the door and give yourselves up! There is no escape! We have the place surrounded. If you give yourselves up we will consider letting you live!”
The pounding continues as Janiven whispers,
“Everyone, over here behind the bar, quickly! We have little time before they break the door down. Morosino, help me out with the trapdoor!”
Morosino and Janiven quickly move towards the back of the bar. The two of them grunt with effort as they lift a cleverly disguised trapdoor in the floor open. Having lifted the trapdoor open, Janiven says breathlessly,
“This is the best chance we’ve got of losing them. The shaft here leads to the sewers underneath Westcrown. From there we should be able to lose them. Morosino, go and open the doors down there leading to the sewer. Everybody else, follow him. I’ll be at the back and attempt to delay them as much as possible! Hurry, we don’t have much time!”
The pounding is more furious now and the voices behind the tavern’s front door angrier. Without hesitation, Morosino heads down through the trapdoor.
“This is your last chance! If you do not open the door, we will break it down and strike everyone down without hesitation! Open the door, now!”
Ankara grabs the largest piece of furniture (probably the table at which they were eating) he can find and braces it against the door, to slow pursuit.
He continues to look for lanterns lighting the room, a hearth, cooking oil or some signs of what fire was used to cook the chicken they've been eating.
'Not even a knight who serves Hell will relish running into a burning building...' he thinks.
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Ankara grabs the largest piece of furniture (probably the table at which they were eating) he can find and braces it against the door, to slow pursuit.
He continues to look for lanterns lighting the room, a hearth, cooking oil or some signs of what fire was used to cook the chicken they've been eating.
'Not even a knight who serves Hell will relish running into a burning building...' he thinks.
Janiven hisses at Ankara, not certain of what he is up to.
"What are you doing!? We have to get moving. That table won’t hold them for long.”
Janiven hisses at Ankara, not certain of what he is up to.
"What are you doing!? We have to get moving. That table won’t hold them for long.”
Nodding his head at Sevegny, scurrying down the trapdoor as he sets the table in place, he grunts, "We can't all fit at once. I might as well do something useful while others are getting clear."
Looking at Morosino, he points to the trap, "Move boy!"
Patrum quickly makes his way towards the bar and awaits his turn to enter the trapdoor. He turns toward Janiven.
Thank you for your hospitality lass. Don't tarry long, no reason to get yourself killed just to save us.
With that he begins to climb down.
Kyras shuffles down the stairs after Patrum without a word.
At Marcellius' offer, Ankara just grunts agreement, "You do that." He offers Janiven and Morosino a hand down the trapdoor, ushering them out with haste.
Once they are clear, he tosses the lanterns into the main room, so that the oil in them splashes out across the floor, and then flings burning coals from the remains of the hearthfire onto them, before hopping into the tunnel himself, saying to Marcellius just before his head goes out of sight, "Better hurry on behind."