Vizio's Tavern. It's easy enough to find, standing sadly on a corner of the eastern Rego Scripa. The tavern is commonplace in this part of Westcrown, the kind of place where merchant guards go to relax, gripe about their employers, and look for more work. Or at least, it was until several months ago, when the Vizio patriarch passed away, and the surviving family moved out of Westcrown to go live with kin in distant Corentyn. Today, Vizio's stands apparently empty, its windows grimy, or boarded up; its overhead sign in need of a fresh paint job. A wooden placard stands in one splintered window frame, the words 'Reopening Soon' scrawled upon it in dark paint. The afternoon sun in the sky above marks the time as nearly 4:00. The hour of Janiven's secret meeting is at hand.
Pontius stakes out the tavern, waiting if more people come.
If possible in a dark alley, to stay out of sight, but keeps the tavern in eyesight.
If more people come, he waits a few minutes before entering the tavern.
He needs to make a fashionably late entrance, he also wants to have a general idea of who's inside before he decides to go through with this meeting.
Kyras has visited just about every tavern in the city at least once, and though Vizio's was not his favorite spot, he's sad to find that it has closed, currently unaware of the death of proprietor. Oh well, he's here on business. Shady business, but business. He calmly walks past the tavern, trying to catch a glimpse inside without being obvious.
He continues walking for a block and turns a corner, eventually coming back around to the tavern. He walks up to the door and with a glance around him and a quick swig from his flask of gin, he slinks into the taproom of the decrepit building.
Once inside he takes up a post next to the door, on the side of the hinges so that anyone entering would not notice him until they walked completely into the room or closed the door.
Kyras has visited just about every tavern in the city at least once, and though Vizio's was not his favorite spot, he's sad to find that it has closed, currently unaware of the death of proprietor. Oh well, he's here on business. Shady business, but business. He calmly walks past the tavern, trying to catch a glimpse inside without being obvious.
1d20 + 3
He continues walking for a block and turns a corner, eventually coming back around to the tavern. He walks up to the door and with a glance around him and a quick swig from his flask of gin, he slinks into the taproom of the decrepit building.
Once inside he takes up a post next to the door, on the side of the hinges so that anyone entering would not notice him until they walked completely into the room or closed the door.
...
Dang! I forgot to change to Kyras for the post. Sorry.
Pontius, the earliest invitee to arrive at Vizio's, slips around into a secluded alley nearby (not TOO dark of course!), where he waits to see what happens. Moments later, he spies a rough and disheveled half-elf walk by warily. Thinking little of it, Pontius' interest is captured anew when he sees the armed half-elf come back around the block and furtively enter the tavern.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Kyras, unaware of his observer, casually completes his circuit of the street, then approaches Vizio's cautiously after wetting his whistle from his flask. Finding the front door unlocked, he slips inside and darts behind the door.
"Are you hiding out from someone, or just setting an ambush?" a woman's voice asks wryly from across the taproom.
Startled slightly, Kyras turns to see that the speaker is immediately recognizable as Janiven Key. The tall, red-haired woman downplays her beauty with her rough clothing and stern attitude, but she is attractive nonetheless. At present, she stands behind the bartop preparing a light supper of cold chicken, hearty bread, and raw vegetables. She gestures to where a table has been prepared in the center of the room, surrounded by several chairs. "Instead of skulking there, why not have a seat. Pour yourself a mug of ale while we wait for the rest."
An observer outside Vizio's Tavern would see a man pass by outside; a middle aged man about six feet tall, lean, wearing a mismatched chalk and acid stained robe and a scholars cap. Around his neck he wore an unusual amulet, styled in an ancient Azlant fashion in the likeness of a closed eye. He was somewhat unusual in that he had his nose buried in a map and that this was the third time he had passed this same spot in the last half hour.
The man stopped abruptly, planted his staff in the ground (and it stood there without toppling over), turned the map over and peered at it again through his reading glasses.
Glancing around, the man's eyes settled on the Tavern finally. Gingerly he approached the door and opened it. Peering inside, as if he feared trolls might be in residence, he carefully stepped inside...
Pontius, the earliest invitee to arrive at Vizio's, slips around into a secluded alley nearby (not TOO dark of course!), where he waits to see what happens. Moments later, he spies a rough and disheveled half-elf walk by warily. Thinking little of it, Pontius' interest is captured anew when he sees the armed half-elf come back around the block and furtively enter the tavern.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Kyras, unaware of his observer, casually completes his circuit of the street, then approaches Vizio's cautiously after wetting his whistle from his flask. Finding the front door unlocked, he slips inside and darts behind the door.
"Are you hiding out from someone, or just setting an ambush?" a woman's voice asks wryly from across the taproom.
Startled slightly, Kyras turns to see that the speaker is immediately recognizable as Janiven Key. The tall, red-haired woman downplays her beauty with her rough clothing and stern attitude, but she is attractive nonetheless. At present, she stands behind the bartop preparing a light supper of cold chicken, hearty bread, and raw vegetables. She gestures to where a table has been prepared in the center of the room, surrounded by several chairs. "Instead of skulking there, why not have a seat. Pour yourself a mug of ale while we wait for the rest."
Kyras stays where he is, eying Janiven. He avoids answering the hiding/ambush question directly, as he doesn't know which one it will be until something happens, instead answering with his reasoning. "One can never be too cautious. For all I know you're with the Death Knights and you're setting me up. Besides, I don't know who else is coming through that door. Growing up on these streets can make you paranoid, and in this city, that's not a bad thing." Kyras turns his head to the pitcher of ale for a second, but decides to wait until the meeting starts before indulging. He's not sure he feels 100% safe here. "I'm assuming Katya hasn't arrived yet?"
Jacob walks in without flash, indistinguishable from the normal bar-goers that would have frequented the tavern back when it was open. He pauses for a moment in the doorway for a moment of nostalgia, then nods his greetings to Janiven and takes a seat at the table. He introduces himself with a hearty handshake to anyone who joins him at the table, but is slow to engage in further conversation.
Then you see the man stride back out of the tavern, walk out to the street, pick up his staff, and go back inside the tavern again.
Dolmar comes hustling to the tavern. He's done work in this area of town, but never actually in this building. He stops when he gets closer to the tavern and starts to peruse the shape of the building taking mental note of what could be done to return this building to once again being a viable business in hopes of growing once again.
After reviewing the front part of the building, Dolmar enters the tavern (wondering briefly about the somewhat confused human with his staff). He greets Janiven "Evening lass.", and takes a look around the room noting its inhabitants before taking a seat.
Kyras stays where he is, eying Janiven. He avoids answering the hiding/ambush question directly, as he doesn't know which one it will be until something happens, instead answering with his reasoning. "One can never be too cautious. For all I know you're with the Death Knights and you're setting me up. Besides, I don't know who else is coming through that door. Growing up on these streets can make you paranoid, and in this city, that's not a bad thing." Kyras turns his head to the pitcher of ale for a second, but decides to wait until the meeting starts before indulging. He's not sure he feels 100% safe here. "I'm assuming Katya hasn't arrived yet?"
Janiven looks slightly bemused. "True enough, that...especially after dark, as we all know. Still, you showed up didn't you? That seems like a good sign. At any rate, no, Katya hasn't arrived yet. You're the first."
Glancing around, the man's eyes settled on the Tavern finally. Gingerly he approached the door and opened it. Peering inside, as if he feared trolls might be in residence, he carefully stepped inside...
Upon entering, Faradir notes Janiven and Kyras gazing cagily at one another; she as she slices bread on the bartop, he as he crouches near the doorway. It's a strange scene, but Janiven cuts the tension by greeting the older man. "Ah, you must be the professor, of course. Please do come in, and make yourself at home while we wait."
Jacob walks in without flash, indistinguishable from the normal bar-goers that would have frequented the tavern back when it was open. He pauses for a moment in the doorway for a moment of nostalgia, then nods his greetings to Janiven and takes a seat at the table. He introduces himself with a hearty handshake to anyone who joins him at the table, but is slow to engage in further conversation.
Dolmar comes hustling to the tavern. He's done work in this area of town, but never actually in this building. He stops when he gets closer to the tavern and starts to peruse the shape of the building taking mental note of what could be done to return this building to once again being a viable business in hopes of growing once again.
After reviewing the front part of the building, Dolmar enters the tavern (wondering briefly about the somewhat confused human with his staff). He greets Janiven "Evening lass.", and takes a look around the room noting its inhabitants before taking a seat.
Janiven greets Jacob and Dolmar as they arrive in turn, offering to each a seat and a drink. She then watches in amusement as Faradir returns to the street outside and retrieves his staff. "Hopefully the others will arrive before much longer, then we can get started."
After the dwarf enters, and sees the robed man come back for his staff, he decides to give it a go. This ragged bunch of people don't look like Hellknights or spies for them.
If no one else enters the bar for another five minutes he enters the tavern.
Pontius opens the door and peers inside, noticing Janiven he enters and closes the door behind him.
Looking at everyone in the tavern, he says:
"Greetings, Pontius is the name. Pontius Grachius."
He then looks at Janiven, bows and says:
"Excuse my late entry, ma'm, but I was a little suspicious about this ... clandestine meeting."
"However, since I've been invited to a meal, let's start with a bite to eat."
"I've worked up quite an appetite."
He sits down next to Jacob, and looks at Janiven expectantly.
Professor Rokannon reenters the bar after recovering his staff. Peering around he thinks to himself "So this is a tavern. Dimmer and smellier than the descriptions in the books..." He lights up his staff.
When hailed by Janiven, he will approach the table and sit, examining the others in turn. He bows to Janiven, then turns his penetrating eyes on her.
" I am Professor Faradir Rokannon; I take it that you sent me this note promising answers to the mystery of my missing friends?"
"Greetings, Pontius is the name. Pontius Grachius."
He then looks at Janiven, bows and says:
"Excuse my late entry, ma'm, but I was a little suspicious about this ... clandestine meeting."
Janiven replies to the man's flamboyant entrance, "And not the only one to feel that way, to be sure, Mr. Grachius. These are troubled times for the city, after all. But I trust no one here means you any harm. Indeed, if I and my associates have chosen wisely, each of you may have more in common that you know."
Professor Rokannon reenters the bar after recovering his staff. Peering around he thinks to himself "So this is a tavern. Dimmer and smellier than the descriptions in the books..." He lights up his staff.
When hailed by Janiven, he will approach the table and sit, examining the others in turn. He bows to Janiven, then turns his penetrating eyes on her.
" I am Professor Faradir Rokannon; I take it that you sent me this note promising answers to the mystery of my missing friends?"
Janiven nods respectfully. "I'm not sure I'd call it a promise, good professor, but I will say that we may seek those answers together. The authorities of this city have much to answer for."
Janiven falls silent and looks pointedly at the tavern door. Clearly, she is yet waiting for at least one more arrival.
After sitting down he spots the ale and pours himself a mug.
"Good health, a toast on a fine dinner made by our lady host."
Pontius strikes up a conversation, but is soon falling into his roll as the center of the attention (for now anyway). Making small talk about the weather, the city and anything else that might pop into his head.
He's trying to make everyone like him, but while talking he questions individuals at the table inconspicuously. Trying to figure out something about them.
Kyras starts to walk around the room, seemingly pacing. Where was Katya?
Anyway, while he's at it, he glances about the room as he circles it, taking note of all exits and entrances that he can see.
Professor Rokannon sits down, takes out a pipe, and fills it with pipeweed.
Gazing around the table he asks; "Do ALL of you also have missing friends?"
Snapping his fingers until one thumb lights on fire, he sets it to his pipe and puffs until it lights. He then shakes his hand until the fire on his thumb goes out.
Kyras glances towards the table and answers the professor's question. "My uncle." He finishes his way around the room and decides to finally sit down, figuring that Katya is either running late or got caught by Hellknights trying to follow her to this meeting or something, and if she did get caught, his best bet for saving her would be this meeting here. He sits on the side of the table opposite the main door, so he can see it from where he is sitting.
He pours himself a mug of ale and takes a big gulp before setting it down on the table.
Professor Rokannon sits down, takes out a pipe, and fills it with pipeweed.
Gazing around the table he asks; "Do ALL of you also have missing friends?"
Snapping his fingers until one thumb lights on fire, he sets it to his pipe and puffs until it lights. He then shakes his hand until the fire on his thumb goes out.
Jacob sets down his mug and leans forward. "For me it is my livelihood that is missing. The smithy that has been in my family for generations was torn down by a petty bureaucrat to suit his own ends. I tried to make my neighborhood a better place through generosity hard work, and he didn't like that." He pats the hammer at his belt and makes a halfhearted attempt at a grin. "So now I'm learning the more direct approach to change."
He pauses for a moment, lost in thought, then looks back up at Faradir "Who is your missing friend?"
Dolmar pours himself a large mug of ale and takes a big swig draining half the mug in large gulp. He rests back in his chair and looks around at the assembled group.
"Aye, I'm missing family members from this city. Between the decay in business and the shadow beasts, I've lost all my close family. Sure they're not all dead and gone, but me brother is lost and missing in a barrel of his own choosing. I'm hoping to be able to find a measure to bring the city back to health. I've waited a long time to find some others who maybe of like mind to assist."
"Missing family ... Well, in a sense they are missing ... My whole family is dead. Courtesy of shadowbeasts and Hellknights."
"My parents we're sent to their deaths on the streets of Westcrown."
"My uncle, Valerius Grachius, took me in. Together we had quite a good life, until he was taken away by the Hellknights ... I've never heard from him again."
"So ... I hope our lovely host can shed some light of what we're all doing here."
"Especially since, should we get caught, this meeting is our one way journey to the infamous torture chambers of Citadel Rivad."
Janiven listens sympathetically as the PCs share their stories, nodding at each tale in turn while she finishes making the preparations for the meal. When all has been made ready, she carries over the food and joins the others at the table. The food she serves is simple but tasty, and goes down easily when chased by an ample supply of ale. Throughout the meal, Janiven keeps the conversation light, obviously waiting until after dinner to speak about the serious matters which have brought this party together. Janiven looks repeatedly toward the door throughout the meal, distracted a bit by the absence of....someone.
At last, when plates have been cleared and mugs refilled, Janiven rises from the table and walks to the front door of the tavern. With one last look out onto the street, she then proceeds to lock the front door and shutter the windows. Those precautions taken, she turns to the assembled guests.
"Well, we can't wait any longer to get started. We wouldn't want to get caught here after dark, after all." Then, with a deep breath, she continues, “Again, thank you for agreeing to meet with me here. I have chosen each of you for a singular reason—everyone here, myself included, has suffered, whether we realize it or not. I have lived in Westcrown my whole life, and although I love this city, I must admit, as must you, that despite our peace and prosperity, we continue to suffer. Fear should not be an expected part of life, and yet each night brings fear to our doorsteps. Yes, Westcrown has been safe from war and famine for nearly seventy years, and yes, our businesses have prospered for the most part," she gives Jacob a look of understanding.
She continues, "But this safety and prosperity has been bought in the coinage of fear and prayers to Hell. Other lands live free from tyranny. Other cities do not fear the night. Other governments do not cede the streets to monsters of the infernal shadows. Westcrown was once such a place, and she wants to be such a place again. Westcrown is not only her buildings and canals and docks and history—she is also her people. Westcrown is our friends and neighbors, our mothers and fathers, our siblings and cousins, our sons and daughters! With but a small group of supporters and dedicated brothers and sisters, we can earn the trust and admiration of those people. A Westcrown free of these shadowy beasts that stalk our streets is one step closer to a Westcrown free of the devil that is the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune!”
Janiven pauses and looks hopefully from face to face, awaiting the PCs' replies.
Anyway, while he's at it, he glances about the room as he circles it, taking note of all exits and entrances that he can see.
1d20 + 3
From the taproom, Kyras only sees the main entrance onto the street. However, behind the bar, there is egress to another room...presumably, the kitchen, larder, etc. There may be a secondary exit back in that area.
Pontius raises his mug of ale in salute.
"Hear hear my lady ..."
"That was an invigorating speech, even I could not have done better."
"But how do you propose we start this little revolution ?"
"We are but a small band of ordinary people."
Pontius looks around the table, and continues.
"I'm sure you fine gentlemen agree that, were we to join, we are risking horrible deaths on the torture tables."
"Do not get me wrong, I'm all for gaining the admiration of the people, and clearing up the night. But what you are saying here is akin to ... heresy."
"What I'm saying is that I need a little more convincing then a finely cooked meal ..."
"So what exactly are you suggesting? What kind of numbers do you have? Where are your influence points? We can have all the support of the people and still never get anywhere. No one wants these creatures here, no one wants a government headed by insane diabolists. But they're scared. We, by virtue of deciding to stand against the current powers that be, will already essentially have the support of the people. But that won't stop them from slaughtering the lot of us, and not a one of those people will speak a word against it, because they're scared."
Kyras takes another large gulp from his mug of ale, swallows, sets his mug down and takes a bite of bread, looking at Janiven, waiting. He's not gonna support something that has no chance or plan.
"Of course they're scared. We're all scared. But we're also angry, and when people get angry enough they don't care about fear any more. Pontius, you say we risk the torture tables by making a stand. But the truth is we take that risk just by living here, and I'm getting tired of it. You say you need convincing, and I don't blame you, but I have nothing left to lose."
He turns back to Janiven "Ma'am, you sound like you have a plan. I'll help you with it."
"My lord Abadar tells me in me heart of hearts that you be speakin' true that Westcrown can be rescued from its downward spiral. That has long been my reason for staying in this town so far away from my kin, when even my sire had gone back to our homeland. However, as the other lads have indicated, it tis not an undertaking to be lightly considered.
As the large fellow has asked, what kind of plan had you in mind? I wish to do Abadar's work in bringing back safety to a once grand city, but He also requires his followers to consider well before undertaking such a possible unsettling task."
Dolmar refills his mug and takes a large swallow and looks around to the room to make note of the members of the meeting.
"Thank you, Jacob, I appreciate your support. As for the rest of you, I understand your concerns. Allow me to try to address them as best I can. My friend Arael was supposed to meet with us here, and he has a much better way with words than I do. But, I'll do my best."
Janiven continues, "My words are treasonous, this I know. And yes, people are frightened. But, the way to overcome fear is to stand together and spread the word of our cause...that there is hope and a future for this city. Our numbers are small as of now, but I know we will grow. And as we do, we will become more than simple rebels or rioters. We will become a band of protectors, working to win the admiration and support of the citizens by doing good works, and providing aid where we can. The nobility of House Thrune mostly looks as Westcrown as a home-in-exile for the old nobility. If we stick to street level activities, avoiding direct entaglements with the government, those with the real power in Cheliax will view our activities as mere petty squabbles in the former capital...until it's too late."
"You may have a point there ..."
After a short pause he continues ...
"My lady, I concede, I'll join your little band of rebels."
"It looks like it's a good cause, and there seem to be more people behind you in this dangerous endeavor."
"Besides all that ... I could use the excitement."
"Better to ride towards the gallows, helping to lift the shroud of darkness from amongst the common people, then wait for the darkness to engulf us all."
"You still haven't answered my question Janiven. I asked you if you had a plan, and you have answered me with 'We will grow until we have the strength to oppose the government.' How will we grow? More recruitment meetings like this? And while we're growing, what are we gonna be doing to make resistance possible and build the support of the people? Do you plan on being a charity service for the people or something? And once we DO have the strength to tangle with the nobility, how exactly are we going to do that? Are we going to sabotage their plans, and if so, how are we going to figure those plans out? More undercover work like you told me my uncle was involved in? Or are we gonna just take 'em on head on, swords in hand?"
Kyras leans forward in his seat, folding his hands together on the table.
"I'm not saying that I won't get involved. I want to. I just need to know the plan, or if there is a lack of one. I already know what you plan on doing. What I want to know is how."
"Alright lass. I'm in for assisting the citizens to gain some self respect and allowing to feel safe in their own homes. Without those for the citizens, there is no true hope that a city can support herself.
However, open fighting and rebellion without structure fosters respect and safety for no one."
Dolmar leans back and slowly drinks his mug of ale while taking in the feeling of the rest of the crew in the room.
Professor Rokannon spoke slowly.
"Their names are Renna Young and Val Highmaster. And they spoke much as you do now, to overthrow the old regime' and bring a new era of freedom to the realm... Before they disappeared."
He looks at Janiven in the eye. "If they are still alive, I have to try to rescue them. In spite of all authority against them, they are my friends and I must help them."
He sits back and lets a trail of smoke spiral up into the gloom of the ceiling. "And if they are dead... Well, I suppose I must help them achieve the dreams they had while alive; no matter how ludicrous."
He nods sharply.
"I am with you my lady."
The rising smoke seems to twist into the form of a noose for a moment, just a trick of the eye no doubt. Professor Rokannon rubbed his temples.
"I must be out of my mind.
After Kyras rant, Pontius looks at him ...
"Karas was the name right ?"
"Why don't you settle down a bit, I think you're getting ahead of things."
"I think her plan for now, is to gather a group of people willing to make a change."
"Which is alot more then most people even dare ..."
"My dear fellow, you seem like a person who's a bit down on his luck, couldn't this be a marvelous turning point in your life ?"
"This is a chance to gain a purpose, and to put that sword of yours to good use."
"I think that if we stick together and make this work, perhaps we can shed some light on the lives on the tortured citizens of Westcrown."
------
After he sees Raradir rub his temples he walks over and slaps him lightly on the shoulder.
"I think we all are a bit out of our mind, and completely lost it when we entered this room."
"But we are here now ... perhaps I might make a suggestion ?"
"I think all of us have quite alot to think about, some more then others but it might be a good idea to sleep on it for a night ?"
"We could meet here again tomorrow and everyone can make a decision in their own time."
"How about it ... ?"
Kyras glares at Pontius. "I wasn't asking you rich boy. Let her answer for herself. If she doesn't have a plan, that's fine, it's just a bit of information I'd like before agreeing to this."
He then turns back to Janiven. "I believe I've made my decision. I just want some more information before I make it final, and since I'm asking questions instead of walking out the door, I think you can guess what that decision likely is."
Kyras glares at Pontius. "I wasn't asking you rich boy. Let her answer for herself. If she doesn't have a plan, that's fine, it's just a bit of information I'd like before agreeing to this."
He then turns back to Janiven. "I believe I've made my decision. I just want some more information before I make it final, and since I'm asking questions instead of walking out the door, I think you can guess what that decision likely is."
Janiven opens her mouth to respond, apparently ready to cut off the brewing argument between Pontius and Kyras... when a sudden excited pounding on the front door interrupts her!
Janiven immediately adopts a defensive posture, peers through the front window at the person knocking, and then swiftly moves to the door, unlocks it, and opens it.
In stumbles an out-of-breath, frightened-looking teenager. Janiven's face turns grim and she demands, "Morosino?! Explain yourself, what's going..."
The boy interrupts, calling out "Janiven, they've got Arael!", then he immediately doubles over in a fit of coughing, as though brought on by a long run. Then, recovering himself, he spurts out, "The dottari nabbed Arael, and the Hellknights of the Rack are trying to get custody of him! There’s a bunch of Hellknights on their way here now! I only just made it in here; they’ve already surrounded us!”
At this point, the sound of clanking armor and weapons advancing from the street outside becomes apparent.
Kyras stands so quickly his chair rockets back behind him as he takes two quick gulps of his ale, not even paying attention as he drops it on the table and wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his other arm. He then looks at Janiven. "The kitchen, or whatever is back there," he points to the bar, probably indicating behind it, "is there another way out back there?"
Jacob puts on his backpack and makes sure his shield will be easily accessible.
Professor Rokannon wonders; "Is this what happened to my friends? No time to analyze the situation; this will certainly be a fight."
Faradir stands up and waves his hands while intoning under his breath. "Seraphim protect me."
"Lass, if there be another way out of this tavern, now would be a good time t'share."
Dolmar stands, finishes his ale, and readies his shield.
Pontius gets up quickly and moves to the side of the window.
Trying to remain out of sight he looks outside.
Pontius looks out the window and sees a large numbner of armed men without, bristling with the trademark spiked armor and heavy bladed weapons of the Hellknights. There are at least a dozen of them, and perhaps as many as twenty. Clearly, the party is badly outnumbered.
As the sound of a heavy mailed fist pounding on the door reverberates through the room, Janiven leaps into motion while answering Kyras' question. "Sorry for getting you all into this, but there is another way out! Follow me!"
The woman leads the way behind the decrepit bar, and through the rear door into the kitchen. The young lad, Morosino, is fast upon her heels. From the street outside, a gruff voice shouts "We know you're in there! Give yourselves up in the name of the Order of the Rack!" The pounding on the door increases in intensity and volume.
In the kitchen, Janiven quickly throws open a the door of a floor-standing cupboard, then tosses out brooms, mops and buckets. Then she kneels and raises a trap door concealed in the bottom of the cupboard. "Down here, quickly! We'll lose them in the sewers." Morosino wastes no time in leaping through the concealed hatch, and Janiven gestures frantically for the PCs to do the same, even as something heavy smashes against the front door of the tavern with a loud crash.
Professor Rokannon doesn't need to be told twice and quickly goes down the trap door.
"Well, my lady, it seems our decision has hastened to our doorstep."
Pontius shakes his head, thinking how the sewers will ruin his clothes.
He quickly dismisses that notion, capture is alot worse ...
Pontius follows Faradir down into the sewers.
As everyone else is climbing down into the sewer Kyras glances about, seeing if there is a lit lantern or something nearby.
"I guess there is no real option."
Dolmar quickly climbs down the hole into the sewer.
Jacob holds the trap door open for everyone else while putting on a metal gauntlet.