Haladon utters a quick spell, runs around the hole, and drags Father Rod into the hole; using his body to cushion his friend's fall.
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The two kalashtar follow Haladon through the hole. Helkashtai glares at the barrier of scything blades.
Kazadar's barrier collapses under the assault of her imperious will. As it does so, one of the giants rushes forwards and takes a swing at Janosz.
The adventurers plunge down into a room filled with smoke from the flames above. It seems to be someone's kitchen, though it is currently deserted. A door leads to a hallway beyond.
"See you in hell, blue goat-molesters!" Janosz jumps down the hole, grabbing the back of Kazadar's cloak in the process.
Both Janosz and Kazadar pitch through the hole.
Gil's voice sounds through the room from her position in the southeast corner.
"Stop looking in the hole, you idiots. The one with the shards isn't there."
Kazadar takes 30 damage from their parting shots.
"Olladra's fortune light our way." Kazadar intones, calling a wave of healing energy across the group.
Blue Meanie 1, then Ezreal.
Ezreal sees the tent pop up out of the corner of his eye and nods, "Yes. Get everyone in there and we are gone." In the meantime he conjures a field of waving tentacles over the hole between floors to buy a little time.
The group quickly pile into the tent and Ezreal collapses the tent behind them. As one of the blue giants begins to push his way through the tentacles Ezreal grabs the tent and casts his spell of translocation...
He whisks through the astral plane, a brief silvery blur. Then, with the usual stomach-lurching abruptness, he is back in Eberron. He has arrived in a darkened cell, the closed door made up of narrowly spaced bars. A guard in the uniform of a Karrnathi army corporal falls off his chair where he was dozing just outside the door, reaches for a speaking tube and yells, "Intruder in the teleport trap!"
Ezreal looks around and notes the guard and his uniform before sighing in relief. He rummages through his pack for his traveling papers and clears his throat, "My apologies for the shock. Ezreal Farlowe, Warmage on assignment in Breland. Notify your superiors immediately." He presents his papers, "Verify my identity that we might expedite the process corporal."
The corporal looks at the papers and speaks into the tube again. There is a pause while the soldier eyes Ezreal nervously, fingering his sword belt. Then a woman in a Karrnath army captain's dress uniform comes down the stairs at the back of the room. Ezreal has met her before - she is Desdemora ir'Janvik, the military attaché in the consulate and, unofficially, Karrnath's chief spy in Sharn.
"By the host, Farlowe," she says in aristocratic tones, "What are you doing there?"
I'm thinking she might go to the Cyran refugee area using a generic form and try to blend in there while watching intently for anyone that might be following. I don't remember if we have established a relationship with any criminal element where she might be able to hide for a day.
Ultimately, she will use the wand of cure light wounds to heal up, take the form of a male courier (I think I can take the form of a gnome, but they would be unusually tall, so a half-elf of slight build is more likely), and travel to the embassy with "a message for military attache' ir'Janvik, from one Matilda ir'Graanten, to be delivered in person. I have been instructed to wait as long as necessary." She will be very deferential and apologetic to whatever clerk she is dealing with, but adamant that she must hand-deliver the message.
And if that doesn't work, she has sending (now I realize this...) and will contact Ezreal directly after the perceived heat's let up.
So I ditch the flying invisible blue meanies, lay low for a while to make sure they are gone, do a little shopping at the magic mall (or not), and make my way to the embassy hiding in plain sight as the aforementioned messenger.
"Making a hasty retreat." Ezreal half smiles, but his lingering malaise from the time in Gath's tomb leave it lacking in reassurance. "With your leave I would like to open a secure link to Commander Malakar. The mission has stumbled into complicated territory and exposes further threats with every step. Perhaps we could go somewhere more private to discuss it?"
"Of course," replies Lady Desdamora, waving a hand at the guard who opens the cell door. "I won't ask where you have been," she continues as they walk up the stairs, "Though I am wondering what has happened to your companions, particularly Sir ir'Kraal and that Matilda woman."
Ezreal nods as they walk, "Hm. They may join us shortly with your leave, but you that is something I wanted to speak to you about. But we should do so in private."
Once they arrive somewhere more suitable Ezreal comes out with it. Sir Rolund ir'Kraal, member of the Onyx Skull and Bone Knight of Karrnath, died years ago in his old age. The man you and I know as Sir Rolund, is in reality Thranish Templar of the Flame by the name of Haladon ir'Tarravan."
He pauses to let the absurdity of that sink in. "While under the effect of a curse related to an aberrant dragonmark he bears and supposedly in exile due to the same, this Haladon was taken in by the real Rolund. Once our Rolund passed on, Haladon took up his name and armor and managed to infiltrate the Onyx Skull- in his own words to honor the Rolund who took him in. As far as I am aware he served honorably during his time there, but you would have access to records of his service. The way he tells it, his mark caused him to devolve into a functional form of madness throughout those years such that eventually he may have believed that he in fact was Sir Rolund ir'Kraal."
"What I do know, is that the curse of his mark spread through his mind like a cancer to the brink of death while he traveled with us. Knowing none of the rest, we have cured him through... unconventional means. And now Haladon, Paladin of the Silver Flame is restored from his madness." Ezreal throws his hands up, "I do not know this man. And though he claims gaps in his memory as a result of the curse breaking, he served in an elite unit of Karrnath and will presumably take up arms for Thrane in the future. So. What say you Colonel ir'Janvik?"
"Vol's t!ts!" gasps Lady Desdamora (in somewhat unladylike fashion), "You mean we've had a Knight of Thrane embedded in the Intelligence Service all this time? Where is he now?" She squints at Ezreal. "And where do you stand on this matter, given that you have been brothers-in-arms?"
Janosz leans back against the brick wall and makes himself comfortable as Ezreal disappears with the Karrnathi officer. "I assume we'll need to kill the Riedran leader. Helkashtai. How and where should we do that?" He looks pointedly at the two kalashtar leaders. "Some actual help from you two would be appreciated. Frankly, I'm getting tired of doing your heavy lifting with no up-front assistance whatsoever and not as much as a g&%%$*ned handshake as reward afterwards. Who were those blue f!$!heads? Where do they hide out when they are not busy slaughtering civilians and causing property damage? And how confident must she be if she's willing to act out like this in plain view of essentially the whole city of Sharn?"
"Something's up. I just don't know what yet. I'll enjoy wiping out the Inspired girl, though. F@&& her and her mind tricks."
Ezreal pats the bulky pack he has been lugging along. "Extradimensional space. Haladon is inside. Also Janosz and Rodergo you may recall. We are travelling with a dwarven cleric of the Host now, but the Valenar warrior has moved on. There are two kalashtar as well who needed extraction from a difficult situation. Matilda is about in the city, but I expect to hear from her soon."
"Rolund ir'Kraal I considered a brother in arms. That was a lie. Haladon, I do not know. Simply by function of his renewed oath I do believe he is telling the truth as he sees it. However, were he to return home with classified information (even buried in his subconscious) I expect our Thranish counterparts would exert due diligence to obtain it. Additionally there is one further wrinkle. The type of psychic surgery required to remove the mark's tendrils and filaments spread throughout his brain is not the kind of skill you find in your average temple. The work was performed by a mindflayer from Xoriat who had Haladon in his possession for three days."
"I came to you with this because I would like access to a specialist to 1) verify that he is who he says he is and not a construct of this mindflayer or a mind transplanted from another body and 2) determine what he remembers and does not about his time in the Onyx Skull and what can be done about it. Perhaps those memories can be suppressed, erased, or altered."
"If something can be arranged in regards to those memories, despite what I said, I would like to keep Haladon with us. As a restored paladin he will be seeking spiritual guidance from his church. I would prefer that guidance come from Father Xativa than the hardliners of the central church. Rodergo's heresy from the Orthodoxy is gaining ground and making him enemies at home at the same time. His "heresy" represents a new face for their religion that could drastically reduce hostilities between our countries were it allowed to gain ground. That kind of decision is above my pay grade and I leave it in your hands, but as you ask those are my thoughts on the matter."
Lady Desdamora's jaw drops as Ezreal coolly explains his interactions with a mindflayer from Xoriat. "I see," she says slowly, trying to take it all in, "I think we need to seek orders as to how to deal with this. I'll take you to the Comms Room."
She asks, "Do you need to release your compatriots?" as they arrive at a small room. It is plain, except for a crystal ball resting on a desk. Ezreal recognises this as a secure channel for contacting Headquarters, having used one before.