Freya starts to follow the rest of the group, then hesitates. "Put out your shield, holy man," she instructs, dowsing her own ring at the same time, as she directs a dancing lights spell at the entrance to one of the other corridors on the opposite side of the room. "See if they're attracted to the light." She tentatively withdraws out of the way of the creatures to see if they will follow the decoy lights.
Over a fair amount of time (5 minutes or so), the party manages to dance away from and otherwise outmaneuver the ooze bugs. At one point, the swarm almost catches Rauno, but the Varisian is able to skedaddle away at the last moment, kicking one of the foul vermin off his leg. The group moves farther into the tunnel, and although the swarm pursues them, it will not catch up - it simply moves too slowly.
The party follows the tunnels for a LONG time, occasionally needing to guess at junctions - increasingly, the chalk-marks are being overwhelmed by the growth of moss and algae, and on a few rare occasions they have become smudged and illegible. However, the group eventually emerges into a somewhat cavernous 40' wide octagonal room, clearly a major convergence point for the sewer system as a whole. Four seperate tunnels lead into this room, from the East, Southeast, Southwest, and West. The ceilings here are 15' high, and the whole room is illuminated in dim light, as the morning (yes, morning!) light is beginning to seep through several small vents set high in the walls. The sewage channels converge here into a large cesspool, 10' x 10', located more or less in the middle of the room. Moving to the other side of the room, which is blocked off by sewage channel, will require a DC 5 Jump check or some other creative way of bridging the sewage channel.
"What is this place, Hellknight headquarters?" Freya asks. "Not that I'm surprised, mind you; the atmosphere is right up their alley." She nods to the passageways to the east and west. "They're coming from both sides," she tells the rest of the group.
Sarien stares at Freya for a moment and stifles a curse. He hurries forward, hopping nimbly over the sewage channel.
As the group jumps across the sewage, Janiven and Morosino come running out of the Southeast tunnel.
Oh, Aroden's tomb, I'm glad you're here. The sewers are simply crawling with Hellknights - And not all of them inexperienced youngsters. Dammit! And here they come. Where's Kael? , she asks, as she pulls a small satchel out of her pocket, pulls some soot out of it, and rubs it over the sigil on the wall. As the symbol of Iomedae is covered up, she presses in on a brick, causing a section of the wall to pop out. She swings the surprisingly well fitted hidden door open, and gestures inside. Quickly, now.
"He means he's lying dead in the sewage a ways back where he decided to try to betray us to the Hellknights," Freya states even more flatly, stepping in behind Rauno.
Tao waits quietly and will enter the room once all of his allies are in.
Janiven gives Hardin a confused look as he passes by her. Oh, dear... and who is...? She shakes her head quickly, as if clearing away cobwebs. Clearly there is much I have to be caught up on. We'll speak more upstairs.
"It seems, dear Janiven, that your research was rather flawed." Sarien says as he follows after the others. "The cleric here supposedly was sent to search for you and has been acting relatively reliable, though he reeks of nobility."
"We all 'reek' of something else right now," Freya puts in. "Is this the supposed 'safe' house, or will we be making a further trek through a slaughterhouse to add to the pleasing aroma?"
Hardin fails to catch Freya's eye, which is presently focussed on Rauno cleaning the floor. "See? Fastidious," she remarks with an amused half-smirk. "You've missed your calling, elfy. Why aren't you gainfully employed cleaning some Asmodean cathedral's marble floors instead of delicately scenting scarves for fugitives running through the sewers?"
With a raised eyebrow he replies to Freya Probably for similar reasons as to why you are not illuminating guided tours of the cathedrals yourself. Though if you prefer the stench of the sewers you merely had to decline the scarf and the cleansing afterwards...
After the party makes their way into the corridor beyond the secret door, Janiven pulls a small lever, and the door slides shut.
Janiven whispers, This way, and leads the group a few yards up the tight corridor. It emerges into what appears to be a basement, with walls of cut and polished stone. Crates of supplies and sacks of grain and flour are littered around.
Welcome, Hardin. It is good to have another Iomedaen with us. My hope is that you'll soon meet my friend Arael, who is himself a cleric of Iomedae. But first, all of you will be meeting the rest of those whom Arael and I have recruited to our cause. They are just upstairs.
If you're wondering where you are, as I suspect you probably are, you are in an abandoned temple to Aroden in the Southwest of Westcrown. As you've no doubt seen, the temples to Aroden throughout the city have not been tended in years, and they have in fact gone over to the church of Iomedae in terms of their ownership. The Iomedaens scarcely have the resources, though, to staff, clean, and otherwise run all of the temples, so many sit unused. The Hellknights (as a secular group) are forbidden by ancient laws from looting, rebuilding, or otherwise harming houses of worship, so they do not have any interest in this building. I understand your skepticism, Freya, but this really is as safe a house as you'll find in Westcrown right now.
And again, I owe you each an apology. I did not at all expect our exit from the Tavern to be so brisk and forced, and I assure you that I am as surprised about Kael as you all were. He seemed, by all indications, to be someone who would have been a great asset to our small organization - I sincerely regret that I put you into greater danger then was necessary. I pledge to each of you to do better. Now then, anything to discuss before we go to meet the others?
"Wanting to be clean has less to do with being an Asmodean than being civilized. Disproportionate responses are what I'm worried about."
He is pointedly listening at the doorway for signs of the armigers.
Freya shoots a sharp look at Hardin. "We left four of them dead," she reminds him. "How 'disproportionate' could their response be? I would hardly expect to be let off with a slap on the wrist -- or a stern lecture."
"None of them should know who we are. We killed the traitor already. The others we encountered won't have any tales to tell. They can't respond, disaproportianately or no, if they don't know where to find us or who to look for."
Sarien turns to Janiven. "Speaking of that, lady, why should we continue on with this farce of a resistance? Your organization seems to be in pretty bad shape, what with the hellknights knowing about your tavern, a betrayer in our numbers, and this outsider," he jerked a thumb at Hardin, "knowing where to look for you. From where I'm standin', looking at this sharp tongued wench who's only worth appears to be givin' orders and throwin' insults, I fail to see why I shouldn't just return to my slum and keep an eye out for more pleasant and better managed company." He finishes, with a sour glance at Freya.
"All this speculation about my tongue! I'm starting to feel I'm in quite indecent company," Freya says snidely. "By all means, go back to your hole, street rat, until you find a more genteel crew of traitors and criminals. I understand the local ladies have a weekly tea social and treason-planning session. How is your knitting?"
|
"Has an Asmodean's response ever been tempered by mercy, or justice, or even the intent of the offender? Or even a sense of humor? While the rule of law is important - it is not the sole consideration."
"I would be interested in meeting the rest of your team, Janiven."
He glances about to the rest.
"You know my name. I know none of yours. If you wish to be safely ensconced in your lives, don't tell me yours. I cannot be forced to reveal what I do not know."
A pause. He looks Sarien in the eye.
"None will fault you for bowing out of this risk. But if you're out, we'd best part paths now before you learn something that could be tortured out of you beyond the markings in the sewers, and my name."
Janiven looks at Sarien and shrugs.
If you wish to continue living under the heel of the Hellknights and the Asmodeans, Sarien, you are welcome to do so. It seems to me that you could live a somewhat risk-free life of opressed anonymity, or lead a perilous if fulfilling life spreading hope to Westcrown and it's citizens, and perhaps even returning it - and your name - to their former glory. - she looks at Sarien with a pointed look at the mention of his family's name.
Janiven glances at Freya before returning her gaze to Sarien, and finally to the party at large. For all Freya's bile and vitriol - I've felt it's sting several times now, myself - she is clearly commited to stopping the oppression of those who she calls countrymen. I don't care one whit about whether she's polite while she works to better Westcrown, as long as she's bettering Westcrown.
Either way, you have a choice, and I'll do nothing to hinder you. I admire your penchant for independant thought, and although I'd think you would see that such a mind cannot - will not - go unquenched by the Asmodeans and the Hellknights...perhaps you don't see that. Either way, when we ascend the stairs in a few moments, if you're with us at the top, I'll know I have an ally. If I don't... you know where the Hellknights and the sewers are. But I'd much rather have you with us than against us.
She glances at freya again.
You, dear Freya, would be well served to save your angst for your enemies instead of taking it out on your friends. You are welcome to speak as you wish, but as one who has learned the hard way, I feel obligated to pass on my experience.
Anyone else?
"I'm as committed to ridding this city of the hellknights and the streets of the Shadows as anyone. I simply have yet to see any evidence that you or your people are any more capable of doing so than anyone, especially considering the events of today."
Sarien frowns and looks over the group, focusing on Tao and Rauno. "But I suppose that just shows how much you need our help." He indicated himself along with Tao and Rauno. "I'll see where things go from here."
"My name is Tao and I have no hesitation standing by you in these endeavors. Your actions have spoken for themselves."
"As for Freya, her actions too have spoken far more for her character than her mouth has. Seems to me that we've done well to survive together even with a traitor in our midst. The task at hand is too great an issue to let these petty squables interfere."
After making the statement, Tao makes his way from the room in the direction that Janiven indicated we would be meeting "the others".
Freya shrugs. "I stand against the Hellknights and the House of Thrune, alone or in company. I'll gladly take whatever support anyone is willing to provide." She moves to follow Tao.
Very well, Janiven says, heading up the stairs. I'll be the first to conceed the point that we are no army, nor are we an especially formidible force - at least we weren't until you all came along. These people you're about to meet are common folk. A few of them have never held a weapon of any kind. Although they may seem weak to you, they are valued members of the community, and can do much in circles where you collectively could not. Although, they are eager - they will learn, if we teach them. We cannot overthrow Westcrown's power structure today, it is true - but one day, we might. It is the hope of this that guides Arael and I. I wish that Arael was here, he might explain it better than I.
She pauses at the top of the stairs, lifts a latch, and slowly opens the door. Voices can be heard coming from a large room beyond.
But, Amaya, that's exactly what I'm saying, a deep, smoky woman's voice is saying. "Children of Westcrown" is altogether an inept name for our group. I simply refuse to be called a child! It projects an aura of unwitting stupidity.
There is an audible sigh, followed by a man's voice, smooth and mellow. Listen, Yakopulio, we've heard your objections, but "Children of Westcrown" seems to be the best option to emerge thus far. I realize that you prefer "The Knights of Westcrown", but we are - at least in resources and in terms of relative power - much closer to children than we are to knights. Not to mention the fact that none of us here assembled are in fact Chelish Knights, a fact which might be of interest and annoyance to any ACTUAL Chelish Knights that might be irritated by what we are trying to accomplish!"
As the party arrives in the room in which this conversation is being held - a roomy, if dusty, space that used to serve as a chapel - eleven pairs of eyes swing toward them to see who the new arrivals are. The man who spoke last is standing, while all the others are seated in a circle. There are 6 men and 5 women - a halfling and a gnome among the latter, all the rest being humans of various shapes and kinds. The man speaks up,
Ah, Janiven! Here is our lieutenant now! And with new arrivals, I see! They certainly appear to be...heavily armed. His voice trails off, as he glances at Tao skittishly.
Janiven nods her head briskly. Indeed, Gorvio. Do me a courtesy and make the introductions for me, and then I'll fill everyone in and allow the fine folks to tell you as much about themselves as they would like.
Very well, milady, It will certainly be my pleasure. Allow me to introduce myself first. I am Gorvio, a horse trader by trade. I work for my uncle presently, although I hope to give my time over to Janiven and out little group completely as soon as I can tie off a few loose ends. Gorvio has sharp eyes of a peculiar amber color, but otherwise looks the part of a Chelish horse trader. He wears a long brown tunic, and is roughly handsome, clearly at ease in his own skin.
This, he continues, gesturing to a man to his left, is Larko. You'll find that he doesn't often have a lot to say, but he is a fair and honest man of simple pleasures. Larko is tall, well-muscled, and his skin is deeply tanned from repeated exposure to the sun. He looks to be Garundi, from his manner of dress. He offers the party a brief nod of his head, then resumes looking at the floor in the center of the circle.
Next to him is Mathalen. Mathalen is seated cross-legged, and seems extremely comfortable in the position. As the introduction is made, she rises to her feet in one fluid motion, offers the party a short bow in the manner of the servant caste, and sits back down as quickly as she rose. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, she says, quietly.
I will introduce myself, Gorvio, the large man who is next in the circle says flatly, standing to his full size. He is a truly massive Varisian, with the dark hair and features traditional to that people. He seems to be eyeing the party carefully, particularly Tao. I am Rizzardo. I came to Cheliax as a stowaway on a boat, and have since lived here, performing heavy labor for anyone who would hire me. I take great pride in our little band, and I would hate to see anything untoward happen to it. I assume you will not do anything to put our goals or our safety in peril, he says, backing away from the circle and sauntering to a nearby wall. He leans against it with his massive arms crossed, relaxed but poised for action should the situation dictate it.
Please pardon Rizzardo, he does not make friends easily - although he is a steadfast friend and a good man in his own right, says a bookish Garundi man who is seated next in the circle. I am Sclavo, a scribe of the laws of the land. As one who comes in contact with the rules our society is governed by on a daily basis, I have come to see them as inherantly faulty. I believe that we can work to reform those laws and our once-fair city, and that is why I have joined Arael and Janiven. It is, as Mathalen said, a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. He sits back down, and directs his even gaze to the woman next to him.
She is plainly dressed, but clearly a great - possibly even a historic - beauty. She is of the Tian people, as is written all over her exquisite features. I am called Amaya, travellers. I am but a simple glassblower who believes in this city and it's people. It is my sincere hope that you believe as I do - indeed, as all here do. She speaks softly and meekly, but the grace with which she chooses her words cannot be mistaken. She turns to the gnome to her left.
Beautifully spoken as always, child, idealistic and innocent as ever, the gnomish woman speaks up - she of the husky, smoky voice the group heard when first emerging from the cellar. What you forget to mention, as always, is that for all our great intentions, the city remains beset by shadowfiends, Hellknights, and who knows what else!? For all the thumping of The Acts of Iomedae that go on among this group, the goddess has done fairly little to aid us so far! And do you know why? Because SHE DOESN'T EXIST - none of them do - that's why! It's about time we start to make our own fortunes around here, instead of relying upon ancient legends and myths! Harumph!! Well, anyways, I'm Yakopulio. Anxious to see who YOU might be. She waves a hand dismissively at the woman seated next to her.
This girl - for she is barely more than that - studies the party keenly, with sparkling eyes that seem to soak in every detail and nuance. Who THEY are, Yak? Why, surely it's obvious, isn't it? That one there is a half-orc, as you can see... he's gritted his teeth twice now, once at Rizzardo and once at you, which means that he doesn't back down from a challenge and that he's good at controlling his temper - and he thinks you're as much of an ass as the rest of us do. The man behind him is obviously a holy man of some type - I'm guessing a cleric of Iomedae, judging from the raiment. Based on how Janiven's been studying him the whole time we've been talking, I'm going to hazard that she is almost as surprised to see him as the rest of us are to see her. Should I go on? No, I probably shouldn't. You are welcome to make your own introductions. As for me, my name is Tarvi. I'm a jeweler's daughter, and I suppose that's enough to know for now.
The next man in the circle - an older fellow with his hair dyed bright green - smiles. Hah! I'd bet that half of that was at least half right, Tarvi! Especially the part about thinking Yakopulio an ass. I'm Vitti, a woodcarver. But not, he adds hastily, a carver of living wood. Only dead wood, see? Wastewood. Won't cut to carve, never. Vitti. He blushes slightly, clearly out of his element and happy to get his turn over with.
A halfling woman is next to speak, her voice clear and rich. I'm Fiosa, and welcome. I owe Janiven and Arael a great debt, and know them to be wonderful people and worthy allies. I, too, seek to turn Westcrown around, and restore freedom and justice to it's streets, as Iomedae would will, she says, looking pointedly at Yakopulio, who snorts derisively.
Well, guess I'm last, exclaims the last of Janiven's band, a stout Chelish man of about thirty years. Be that as it may, I'm Ermolos, and 'tis nice t' meet cha. As we've been tellin our trades fer the most part, yeh may's well know that I'm a blacksmith's 'prentice, although I might be able t' open my own shop in fairly short order now. His arms are certainly large and muscled enough to grant credence to this tale, and his hands bear the marks of many callouses.
Sarien eyes the assembled group for a moment, a small smile curving his lips. Finally, he pulled back the hood of his cloak. "And an interesting group you make. Well, why not? I'm called Sarien, at your service." He placed his hands at his hips and jerked a brief bow, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Despite Freya's earlier bravado, reserve seems to overtake her as she enters the crowded room. She withdraws behind the bulk of the half-orc and looks furtively around from under hooded eyes. Her centipede makes a return appearance, crawling up her neck to just below her earlobe as though it has secrets to whisper.
Tao takes a less confrontational stance making it a point to express as relaxed a demeanor as he is able
"I am Tao. There really isn't much to say about me. I've lived here for just under a year. I don't know much about Iomede or her influence, but the teachings of Erastil are quite clear when dealing with the unnatural aberrations that plague this city. I will do whatever I am able to do to combat this fiendish presence".
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation on our approach. One thing to consider when finding a name for this faction may not be it's members, but what it fights for. The Children of Westcrown has meaning beyond the description of you or I."
"Lambs to the Slaughter has a certain realism," Freya mutters under her breath.
"I think some of you are missing the point. Correct me if I'm wrong," Sarien says, gesturing toward the larger group, "but I think that you're looking for a name that will inspire the inhabitants of the city who don't have the courage to rise above their downtrodden state. I'm not sure that Children of Westcrown is all that inspirational, but an encouraging name is going to be necessary. A name that has no meaning would be useless."
When Hardin mentions "The Liberators", a murmer breaks through the room, and some heads begin to nod. As the conversation turns to nonsense names or having no name at all, though, there is palpable dissent in the room, at least, until Sarien speaks.
Very well said, Sarien, was it? Gorvio says, calmly running a hand through his hair. We MUST have a name of some sort in order to inspire our fellow citizens to greater deeds. I like the "The Liberators", though - any other ideas that don't involve reptiles or depositories for holy artifacts? he says with a grin.
Tarvi rolls her eyes. Frogs are amphibians, you toad. she says, smiling wryly.
"It's been my experience that people will ralley behind action. If they are shown the way, they will follow."
"You brought us here. You decide. The longer this takes, the more chance there is that another inocent suffers.
"After that is settled, what is our next course of action?"
"The Liberators sound like a fine name, though not a particularly imaginative one. Whatever everyone decides. I'm more interested in where we go from here. Has any one had a plan for how to improve things? What about this Arael we've heard of? Has he truely been captured by the Hellknights?"
Sarien toys with the hilt of his rapier as he thinks. "Perhaps a rescue attempt would be called for."
At the mention of Arael being captured, there are gasps throughout the room, and Janiven holds her hand up.
Although I'd have preferred to break that news myself, Sarien is correct. Arael has been taken into custody. I've been talking with Morosino, who has what information there is first-hand, and I'm not clear yet as to whose custody he is in, precisely. If there is any way to get him back - to rescue him - we certainly must try to do so. Only time will tell who holds him, and where. I must put word into the street - among friends, of course - that I'm looking for him. I have no doubt that I'll know more soon. For now, our newest guests are surely exhausted , and need rest. Please don't panic. I need to get more information, and as soon as I do, you'll all be the first to know.
Mathalen, will you show our new friends to their accomodations? I will return shortly. With that, Janiven disappears into a side hallway. A few seconds later, a door opens and closes quietly - she is gone.
Mathalen stands up effortlessly, bows slightly, and inclines her head toward the same side hallway. If you'll follow me?
She leads you to your rooms. There is enough room for everyone to have their own accomodations, and although the rooms themselves are little more than cells without bars, there are fresh straw mats of decent quality in each.