I move towards the doorway.
"I will take the lead. Be sure to leave me space to fall back if necessary."
Krazga leads the way, and bounds up stairs to find himself in the abandoned chapel on Erastil. Piles of chairs, and upturned furniture, broken pews and a shattered wooden altar have been pushed into one corner, while the rest of the wooden floor is open.
Standing in the room are six teiflings. Ostengo you recognise, and four ar dressed in the hoods and leather armor typical of the bastards, each one with a strange and fiendish mutation. Their leader however, is a rather handsome man, with mid length black, hair, small horns jutting fromhis forehead, and robes over armor, bearing a strange holy insgina.
'What folly has brought you here? Why did you think to attack us in our nest? If you lay down your weapons now we will be merciful, and the woman spared,' Palaveen says in a loud clear voice.
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Moving up the stairs, past Wat and Krazga, I step off to the side, facing the Tieflings.
"Lay down our weapons? And be slaughtered. I can taste the lies spilling from you Palaveen. We did not attack you in your nest. You attacked us. Perhaps it is you who should lay down your weapons!" I grin darkly, looking to the thugs before the two leaders. "Do you really want to be slaughtered? This human and Half-Orc," I nod over my shoulder at Wat and Krazga. "Have slaughtered more men and Tieflings than your measly little brains can even begin to count. Run now little underlings. For it is not just these two, there is also our Witch. She wields fearsome magic. If you drop your weapons, you can all leave by the stairs we just came up! LEAVE!"
The teiflings are visibly shaken by this and Palaveen seeing his troops lose focus steps forward and roars 'Enough of this stupidity! They die now! Everyone of them!'
Just as he announces that and weapons are drawn however, the main door of the church is kicked open, revealing Janiven and another woman standing ready to fight, Janiven calls out as she readies her longbow 'Cavalry got here late, but we got here nonetheless!'
Squared in the doorway, I take in the scene before me, looking beyond the assembled line of thugs at my as yet unknown comerades
I charge in to the line of tieflings, bellowing a wordless warcry before swinging with my greatsword!
I step just inside the door of the church and extend my open hands towards Ostengo and Palaveen, casting my spell. Runes encircle my wrists and a conic cloud of primary coloured powder bursts from my palm.
Seeing that our attempts at a peaceful resolution have failed, I make my way towards the ringleaders of the gang, with violence on my mind.
Initiative
If I can get there, my attack will be aimed at Palaveen rather than his tiefling soldiers, and Chompsky will try to take down the soldiers without doing too much harm.
Wat: ,
Chompsky: , , trip
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I step forward and throw the flask of acid in my hand at Ostengo, aiming through the line of tieflings fighting my new found half-orc ally.
P
O
T
J
vs. 15
vs. 15
Round 1
The tieflings are dazed and confused by Ignatio's taunts and words, and do not move at first, illiciting abuse from Palaveen in Infernal.
Janiven moves in and to the left drawing her bow and firing at palaveen but missing.
Euphemi hurls a flask of acid, but it lands beside Ostengo on the floor, splashing and doing some harm to the mummy-attired tiefling, but light more than drawing a hissing curse from him.
The dark-haired sorceress then steps into the the temple as well, taking the opposite side to Janiven, she unleashes a wave of magical light, in a multi-hued cascade. Palaveen resists the wave with seeming ease however disgraced, and acid scarred Ostengo is not so lucky and the barrage undoes him, as he falls to the ground blind and unconcious.
Krazga charges forward and with a mighty swing topples one of the stunned tieflings, dropping the man bleeding to the floor.
Enraged at how quickly events are turning against him, Palaveen snarls and becomes invisible as he casts a spell, red runes glowing areound his wrsits and fading when he does.
Ignatio successfully hypnotises the remaining teiflings, but the spell is broken by Krazga's immediate presence, however the tielflings seem almost friendly towards the bard and turn all of heir aggresion towards the half-orc.
Seeing the thugs confused and milling, Wat charges around them, with Chompsky at his heel, the hound smelling out the invisible leader.
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"One last time. Drop your weapons and just lace your fingers behind your heads gents. It is done. We match you one for one, right here and we far outclass you!"
"You have met our Cavalry. This is but the tip. Right now the other tunnels are swarming with armed men and women. We have you surrounded. Do not die for this. Life is worth living!"
The confused, terrified teiflings, suddenly drop their weapons and go down on their knees. A screeech of fury emanates from invisible Palaveen, and Wat swings at it, spraying blood, before the sound of invisible footsteps race out the doorway, unstopped by Janiven as she tries to interpose herself.
The remaining teiflings place their hands in the air. 'Please,' begs a female with strange growths on her head.
'We yield.'
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Sliding my rapier back in to its sheath, I grin. "Finally some sense. All on your feet. Walk over to the wall, kneel down, put your hands behind your head and rest your forehead against the wall. Do this and you wont be hurt!" I frown at the Teiflings, watching them move. "Weapons please Wat my good man!"
"Not while th' leader yet breathes!" I tell the bard, as Chompsky bounds away, following the man's scent.
Chompsky's Perception:
Dex checks if they're needed for a chase:
Chompsky bounds off, leading Wat away from the cleared area near the temple and into the ruins, the cavalier falling behind when the dog enters an aley hot on the heels of the man, Janiven comes after, watchign for tracks. 'Grounds too hard here, it might be best not to let him draw you off. He doesn't yet know where our lair is, and when word of his abandoning his men gets out he'll not gather any more bandits.'
Regardless of her words, she keeps with Wat, bow out and ready to nock an arrow.
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"Master Krazga, Mistress Euphemi, please would you accompany Wat, so as Palaveen does not get the drop on him? I shall stay here and keep our new friends company!" I smile, my eyes never leaving the Teifling kneeling against the wall.
Without looking up, I address the newcomer. "Greetings m'Lady. I do not believe we have been introduced. Ignatio Aulamaxa at your service. Now I do not presume to tell you what to do, but you have a choice, you may stay here or follow Wat. Either really!" I smile and nod softly, stepping forward to scoop up the Teiflings weapons.
Gazing worriedly over my shoulder at Janiven's back as she gives chase, my attention is drawn suddenly back by the sound of a voice, an introduction.
I turn towards the man in question and nod my head shyly in acknowledgement to the three figures in front of me.
My name is Serjia but I feel now is not really the right time for introductions. With all due respect Sir, do you really feel it is wise for all of us to take off after Palaveen?
I move lightly across the marble floor and stand over the unconscious Ostengo, leaving my question open to whomever wants to answer.
I glare at Ignatio.
"So you would not presume to tell Serjia what to do, but would tell me what to do, not-fancy man? I think not. Gorum decrees that we gain honor and glory through fighting on the field of battle, not dashing around in back alleys like rats. Besides, I have run enough for one night."
I move over towards Ostengo and take my rope out of its bag, struggling first to get it to come out of the bag, and then to keep the ends from running away from my hands. Muttering under my breath I begin to hog-tie Ostengo.
"I think it would be best if we didn't give this one a chance to try any more sorcery once he wakes up."
Once he is tied up, I go through Ostengo's pockets and pouches, emptying them as I go.
As the imposing armoured man crosses the room, I quickly step away from my position over Ostengo's limp body to allow the half-orc to subdue him further.
So what is to be done with this sorry sight and the tieflings? I ask quietly, looking down at the half-orc as he sifts through Ostengo's pockets
I step forward to the wall at which the captive tieflings stand. "I insist that these men and women are not harmed. Circumstance can make a fiend out of the best of men." I turn my attention to the tieflings themselves. "Gentlemen - and ladies - I am personally vouching for your safety. Remember that. Remember my mercy."
I walk to Janiven, and have a private word with her.
"What do you think about offering these young men and women a place with the Children? I honestly don't believe that they are all evil people in their hearts. Obviously, we'll require them to prove themselves to us, but I believe they could be a valuable asset to us."
Looking back over my shoulder, I reluctantly whistle for Chompsky to return.
"Ach, though it's hard t' stomach, we may have t' finish this fight another time..." I walk over to Janiven and say. "I agree with Euphemi, Janiven. These bandits may not have been given a chance t' do aught BUT turn t' crime, and the Children can help them. If we want t' help Westcrown, we should start with them as were th' most oppressed. Besides, as I said t' you earlier, a bunch of lads with their skills and th' knowledge of how t' get around th' city unseen could be of use in an enterprise such as ours, I think you'll agree."
My shoulders visibly relax when I hear these notions of leniency towards the tieflings.
I agree with the two of you. I can see that Janiven has proven an impeccable judge of character as usual.
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"Actually, dear Master Half-Orc, I asked if you would accompany Wat. I did not tell you to. I assumed one as hot headed, as you have shown yourself to be, would have loved a good chase now. I assumed wrong. Perhaps you are afraid of the dark. If so, I apologize."
Turning to the new woman, I smile. "It would be a good idea for some of us to go after Wat, yes, as we do not know exactly what is out there waiting for him. These Teiflings are no threat to anyone now. They do not wish to fight any more!"
"We treat them as we treated the one that led us here Euphemi. They will not be harmed, as the other one was not. I have no wish to harm these men and women!"
"Well now my new friends..." I walk over to the remaining Teiflings and smile. "On your feet now. We need to get out of here. You will not be harmed. Euphemi has given you her protection and I have no wish to go against that. Let us all leave here in a civilized fashion!"
"Janvien, is there a safe house, where we can bring our new friends?"
Over the next week you enjoy relative peace. The teiflings swear service to the Children of Westcrown and Iomedae, which greatly pleases Arael. You grow closer to Serjia and Krazga too, and they is included in group discussions with the original three, Janiven and Arael himself. The membership of lower ranking Children begins to grow too, and the organisation is known in whispered ways to have stopped the most brutal bandits in the city. The authorities make some token effort to find the Children, but the effort is half-hearted as they have done nothing but make the city a safer place.
After returning the stolen good, the party receive many gifts and payments, which Arael insists they keep.
However, just as the party and the Children begin to grow restless once more, Arael gathers the party into the kitchen of the old temple and introduces them to a handsome Taldan woman who goes by the name Ailyn Ghontasavos. It is clear from her garb that she is a member of the Pathfinder Society.
Ailyn explains to the party that she has come to Westcrown secretly and under cover of a common mercenary, and hopes to recover several treasures lost when the city’s Pathfinder lodge was forcibly closed decades ago by agents of the House of Thrune. Called Delvehaven, the lodge has been locked down tight for over 30 years, and even before then no Pathfinder has set foot inside since Aroden’s death. The fact that the shadow beasts came to plague Westcrown’s streets so soon after the lodge was sealed by the House of Thrune seems to indicate a connection between the two events, and Ailyn believes she has discovered proof while researching Delvehaven in the libraries of Skyreach at the Great Lodge in Absalom. She goes on to explain that, as much as she would want to explore Delvehaven, she cannot—she’s not officially here on Pathfinder business, and if the society were to find out that she had taken the exploration of Delvehaven into her own hands, she would be in a lot of trouble. Yet if, perchance, another group not directly affiliated with the Pathfinders were to enter the old
ruin—say, a group of heroes eager to combat the shadow beast legacy—Ailyn would be able to make a formal request to have Delvehaven investigated again.
Unfortunately, one cannot just simply walk into Delvehaven. While the House of Thrune no longer actively guards the site, they transferred that responsibility to Westcrown’s mayoral office. Worse, the fact that the House of Thrune has been engaged in an act of rewriting history (either by destroying existing documents or changing them to suit Thrune’s preferences) means that reliable information about Delvehaven has become incredibly scarce. Ailyn knows that there are several powerful magical locks and wards on the lodge placed there by the House of Thrune to prevent entry, and her research has shown her that keys to the locks and documentation relating to those wards exists in only one
place—Aberian’s Folly. Further, the House of Thrune’s devotion to order and tradition all but ensures that these keys and documents are kept in a complex, twelve-sided puzzle-box container known as a Chelish Crux, and that if it has been secured anywhere in Aberian’s Folly, it is likely to lie within the manor’s vault—a place known as the Asmodean Knot. Unfortunately, her research in the significantly sized libraries at the Grand Lodge in Absalom hit a dead end after that, and so she has come to Westcrown to continue her investigations.
At this point in the conversation, both Arael and Janiven observe that the banishing of the shadow beasts from the city’s nights would be one of the greatest accomplishments the Children of Westcrown could do to earn the love and support of the city.
Luckily, Ailyn has a plan which she proposes to the party as they sit int he dusty room on worn old benches.
'We need to get inside the Mayors manor, undetected and without causing a scandal. We need you five to be invited. Luckily the Mayor holds grand dinners at regualr intervals, however only members of the high nobility and the mayors favorites are invited. It is no secret that the mayor is a great fan of the stage, he loves plays and actors, and actresses most of all. But to grab his attention as nobodies we would have to do something stupendous. I propose that you take part in and be the first to ever survive the Chelaxian murder-play, the Six Trials of Lazarod. Only one man in the entire nation is even considering the allegedly cursed play this year. Robahl Nonon. If he can get a cast together and sate the critics in a simple preformance, he will get a place in the newly opened nightshade theater, frequented by the Mayor. Should anyone complete the play, they are sure to win an invitation to the Mayors. What so you say my new comrades? Are you interested in becoming heroes of the people in not one way, but two!?'
I ponder the offer for a moment...
It is rarely survived because murderplays use actual tortures and combats on the stage, and talented actors rarely sign on for them, leaving only hopeful nobodies ill equipped to deal with the very real dangers involved.
After a moments consideration, I slap the flat of my hand down upon the table and speak.
"I, Krazga Ironsoul, shall undertake this task. Come comrades, I think it could even be fun to demonstrate our capability to all. There is certainly honor to be gained in completing such a public test of our skills."
I then sit back, grinning, waiting to see the others reactions.
I'd like to make some inquiries, as surreptitious as possible, into how I could buy, build, or otherwise acquire some form of printing press. .
I also spend some time with the tieflings, hoping my violence against their former bosses is not taken as an emnity towards them.
. If it goes well enough, I might bring one of them out to help me on some of the volunteer construction projects.
"Lit'rature an' th' theatre can be uh powerful tool t' motivate th' population, fer sure, but I'm no actor, I fear! The lumber camps o' th' Verduran forest weren't a place fer the high arts. Besides, I ill like th' idea of stagin' a play t' glorify devils, and riskin' our lives and health as well as our anonymity!"
One hundred gp is fine!
You are set on thr track of contacts who may know something, giving you a +2 bonus to diplomacy checks to find someone. You can search once a week. It will be rare and expensive as they are strictly regualted within Cheliax.
The teiflings grow to trust you, and one confides in you that they were following Palaveen because of rumors among the city's teiflings of a messiah, the very son of Mammon who would take the city and make it a paradise for the fiendblooded.
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Also I wish to purchase a few things, I'll get the list up tonight!
"No Wat, you are not an actor, none of you are, but you have me. I can help prepare you all for what is to come. My Auntie will be in the play, actually. I say yes to this. I know I will e going out for a starring role. And it would be nice to have you all there with me!" I smile, before looking at the Pathfinder.
"We can do this for you. It would be our pleasure!"
I also want to spend more time with my family, taking care to make sure I come and go in disguise or in hiding. I give them 100 gp of my spoils in order to make them more financially comfortable.
I commune with my familiar to learn more spells and teach myself to scribe, in order to refine my up until now intuitive spellcasting. I also purchase a few scrolls and try to learn them.
Other than that, my head and hands are available to the Children as they need them.
Serjia's holiday
I do my best to aid Wat and Euphemi in whatever they to do for the people of Westcrown, truly happy that someone else has taken such an interest in their well being and safety. I know many of these disadvantaged families through my years in the Temple and on the streets so will assist in any way I can.
I interact with all of the new Children, assisting in anything they need and laying the foundations of friendship, taking great pleasure in the knowledge that Euphemi and Ignatio are fellow Westcrown citizens. Krazga's story and his reasons for travelling to Westcrown intrigue me but unless he is forthcoming in his answers I remain curious.
I also disappear from our base each day, from the hours where the sun barely peeks over the horizon to the hours when its warmth begins to seep into my clothes where I sit.
Stealth check for sneaking out
I am very relieved we have you with us, I confess quietly to Ignatio, Gods know, I'm no actress. Smiling jokingly, I stand and stretch before walking over to where Janiven is seated. Maybe they would allow me to work offstage instead.
I approach the Pathfinder and echo the already voiced sentiment If this will best serve the interests of the Children and therefore the people of Westcrown I'm in
Everyone has noticed over the week Serjia rather obviously leaving for a few hours, it wouldn't be as noticeable but for her laughably poor attempts at stealth, which draw further attention to the fact that she leaves and doesn't want to be noticed.
For GM
For GM** spoiler omitted **
I make it known to everyone that I can now alter my appearance through magic, which should come in handy for the performance, just in case we need some extra faces.
Janiven herself accompanies you to the theater, chatting amiably, paying especially notable attention to Wat as you walk through the bustling steet of Parego Spera, this is one of the few parts of the city still as vivid as in its heyday, full of the middle class and new rich, as well as traders and travellers, actors and street preformers.
You eventually arrive at a small theater bearing a simple sign depicting a critic being eaten by a giant saber toothed lime in a comical style. The Limehouse is famous as the headquarters and dress rehearsal space of many plays that go on to become hits in the bigger theaters, the reason for this is the fame and immaculate perfection Robahl Nonon brings to his preformances.
You enter to find the windows sealed and shuttered, the interior lit bey several everburning torches, a small furtive halfling in his middle years introduces himself as Scebbly in the lobby and brings you in through the double doors to the main play area.
Rows of seats line both sides of the central aisle and the moderately sized stage has a balcony built ten feet above it, as well as two balconies for more prosperous audience members above the general seating. In the orchestra pit a hideous humpbacked man is noticeable, wincing graphically as a large, widely built man, who may have been strong in his youth but has gone to seed is screaming and roaring abuse at a pretty young woman on stage. Also on stage, and barely concealing a smirk is an enormous, fat woman in heavy make up and a vibrant and expensive gown.
Ignatio grins on seeing the large woman and exclaims 'Auntie!' before hurrying up on stage to great the woman. This draws the attention of Robahl, who stops his tirade, allowing the young actress to flee the stage in tears. He scowls at Ignatio but decides to turn his attention to the decidely awkward lookign bunch of you milling in the central aisle. He strides up and in a loud, deep naturally musical voice says 'And who pray tell has Scebbly dragged in now!? Who are you ill-clad and poorly postured invaders!? And what brings you to my temple of talent, though it is hard to find any such thing these days. Well? Answer up, nows not the time to get your tongue in a knot, you are in the thea-ter!'
Standing tall, I step forward, narrowing my eyes briefly at the slight but addressing the man before us with an open, friendly face.
We have come to perform in The Six Trials of Lazarod. Our troupe may not initially appear as typical actors but I can assure you that we are more than up to this challenge; one of our members I smile, indicating Ignatio, is the nephew of the young actress you were speaking to previously. We shall give the audience a show they will never forget and complete this most harrowing of plays
Diplomacy
I stand at the back of the group and keep my mouth shut, visibly mildly uncomfortable by the unfamiliar surroundings.
'Dame Aulamaxa is as young as she is slender. But yes, I recognise the family look about the man.'
'I'm feeling generous today, so I'll tell you what, Millech will take you backstage, get you some dress armor and wooden swords, and you can act out a stage combat. You may use magicks, but nothing lethal and nothing that will damage the stage! The stage hand Vizarno can join in, then pick two teams of three! Get about it! MILLECH!'