1648: Stranded in a Foreign World IC

[JbeJ275]

Though Samuel's blast sent towards the captain fails to impact him, flying above his head instead, the eldritch energy ears into the sails above his head dissolving them into a stream of nothingness, Samuel's arrow on the other hand keeps on target, sending one of the lightly wounded Venetians down.

Qamar's acidic blast catches the fatigued Venetian straight in the face, and it seems the sight of his flesh bubbling and boiling as he screams in pain in the moments before his death is the signal for the rest of their crew to retreat. They make a desperate attempt at doing so, most managing it, though two are slowed enough by the process of scrambling for and feeling for the invisible boarding plank, without being able to manage a firm grip on the deck above that they're run down by the surge of the turkish marines, one falling into the sea after being knocked off the invisible ramp.

The captain, having sighted you but standing unwounded himself drops his second pistol and hacks at something on his side of the ship with an axe, sending a jolt through both ships as they are no longer connected. With that he cries out, seemingly an order to retreat.

On deck there are many wounded or slowly dying from both sides of the fight, but those that don't seem torn between taking up their guns again and making fair attempts to give the larger craft some parting shots, or more worryingly turning to you. No doubt incredibly alarmed by what they've just seen occur even while they're thankful for it having taken place.

[Toliudar]

Prudence

Their cover well and truly blown, Prudence turns immediately to their captain and calls out in Turkish. It was going to be a lot harder for the Ottomans to turn on the new comers if Darius just saved some of their lives.

"Captain, we can speak more about the Mu'aqqibat who helped us survive today, but first, we need to see to the injured and repair the damage to your ship. We can help with that. May we assist?"

She switched back to the language of their home to whisper to her colleagues.

"We're going to need a story to tell, and soon. Their religion speaks of guardian spirits, angels. Perhaps our actions could be attributed to these. Dangerous, but better than being labeled devils, as Qamar knows."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

If it helps, Diplomacy on the captain: (1d20+17)[22]

[Metastachydium]

Even as she specifically names her, Prudence's words fail to reach Qamar. She is staring in abject horror at the Venetian whose face she's just melted clean off. She can't not look. She killed someone. Afraid as she might have been of the lion-pirates, she didn't mean to do that, and especially not in a manner so gruesome as this.
Once these implications have sunk in properly, her stomach saves her from the sight itself, at least. She begins gagging again, and bending over, she spills the contents of her stomach all over the deck, before rising somewhat to sit back against the side of the ship by the messy puddle of vomit with tears oozing slowly from under her closed eyelids.

[JbeJ275]

Prudence

The Captain turns to you breathing heavily, as the crew around him tend to their wounds, he looks at you suspiciously but in the end replies. "Yes, use your gifts to do that, get all those you can to survive at least until we reach port. We're not far out. Then you will meet with me, and you will tell me about the nature of these gifts."

With that said, he turns away and begins shouting orders, and the ship turns heading back in the direction you came and follows the coastline closely.

Qamar

As you lean on the side panel of the ship and just try and process the horror of what you've had to do, time seems to blur and you lose track of what you're hearing when you come to the smell of fresh blood has lessened in favour of the salt breeze, and you hear someone approaching you. Should you look, you see it's Ahmed, the scholar who has been sent to accompany you on your journey to the mainland. He's hold a cloth and a large bowl of fresh water, and looks at you shyly but smypathetically.

"Qamar... are you ... well foolish question. Come on, come downstairs with me, we'll get your injuries looked at, and you can talk about anything you need to talk about. Standing here will do you no good okay?

[Thundercracker]

Samuel Arvandor

Crap.

Samuel regrets using his eldritch blast an instant after releasing it. He wished he could take it back, but he couldn’t, and he hoped for an instant perhaps nobody had seen it, but that was impossible.

“Damn, sorry, I completely lost my head,” Samuel said, “or rather, I nearly literally lost my head and then I figuratively lost my head.”

The noble sits against the edge of the ship and mentally kicks himself for a good thirty seconds.

“Screw it, cat’s out of the bag now, might as well try to save someone’s life,” he thought.

He looked around for the nearest most injured individual who is still breathing, Turkish or Venetian.

[Toliudar]

Prudence

Prudence quickly murmurs a translation of the captain's words to her colleagues, and checks on one of the Ottomans felled in battle. She notices Qamar's trauma and Samuel's turmoil, and her whispers to her colleagues become more urgent.

"We've got to present a clear and unified story on this. So if you want a say in how we present our various talents, now's the time to pipe up."

[Bonecrusher Doc]

Darius doesn't join in the conversation. He finds anyone on deck that is in danger of death - Ottoman or Venetian - and uses his healing skill to stabilize them. As soon as he is successful in stabilizing one patient, he quickly moves on to another. This is what he does best. He works until he uses up all the bandages in his healer's kit.

Spoiler

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First Aid - (1d20+14)[15]
First Aid - (1d20+14)[34]
First Aid - (1d20+14)[16]
First Aid - (1d20+14)[30]
First Aid - (1d20+14)[16]
First Aid - (1d20+14)[29]
First Aid - (1d20+14)[28]
First Aid - (1d20+14)[19]
First Aid - (1d20+14)[32]
First Aid - (1d20+14)[31]
Boom.

[Thundercracker]

Prudence

Prudence quickly murmurs a translation of the captain's words to her colleagues, and checks on one of the Ottomans felled in battle. She notices Qamar's trauma and Samuel's turmoil, and her whispers to her colleagues become more urgent.

"We've got to present a clear and unified story on this. So if you want a say in how we present our various talents, now's the time to pipe up."

Samuel Arvandor

“Patron angels maybe,” Samuel muttered, still not thinking clearly, “there must be some purpose to our appearing in Turkish territory as we did, and for us to be on this boat to turn the tide of this battle.”

[Metastachydium]

Qamar looks up with wide, teary eyes at Ahmed who mercifully blocks her line of sight to the horifying visage of her victim's remains and after a brief moment of hesitation, slowly nods, getting back up on her feet clumsily and slower yet. A pained grimace flashes through her face as a surge of pain – coming, in all probability, from the bruise on her abdomen – hits her, but it quickly morphs into a weak smile. Thank you, Ahmed. she mumbles with gratitude in her voice. There's… I really can't… she makes a vague gesture with her left hand. I really don't want to be here anymore. Let's just… Let's just go downstairs or anywhere that's not here.

[JbeJ275]

Qamar

Ahmed quietly takes you downstairs warding off several other sailors who try and approach you and brings you to your quarters, though the memories certainly stay with you Ahmed is doing his best to be reassuring, he waits patiently letting you choose whether or not it would do you good to talk, and leaves only to a bring pitcher of some herbal infusion that slightly numbs the physical pain of your bruising. While the world outside still seems a very hostile place it seems better kept at bay than it was moments ago.

Darius

While the other sailors seem wowed and afraid of your companions, such obstacles mean little to a determined healer, and the wounded soldiers quickly learn to be grateful for the presence of a well trained healer among them. Though several men slip away during the fight and another slips away before you can get to them the rest you manage to bandage, poultice, re-align shattered limbs and touriquent free flowing wounds enough to ensure many more will have a chance at recovery. You successfully treat more men than the rest of the crew put together, only enlisting two sailors to drag the injured off of each other and apply the necessary pressure. A man you recognise as the ship's carpenter seems to be directing much of the healing and stabilises a few but seems like no true expert when it comes to healing like this. While the ship has no true infirmary you follow the injured as they're taken below decks and continue to ensure the survival and recovery of the injured.

Prudence and Samuel

Though both of you put some effort into saving the lives of the injured and dying you're only left tending to your charges for perhaps thirty seconds before Daruis reaches each of them, asking you for some quick assistance and then moving on with the men seemingly made stable. This gives you few distractions as the ship makes its way around the small cape it had just been circling and draws up to the harbour there, you have a few more minutes as the Captain orders his men about, several being sent for medical supplies, new sailcloth and things of that nature, all too soon though the captain calls on you and has you escorted to his cabin where a tense meeting begins.

"So, Prudence and Samuel. Our respected and well received guests, who once we ensured you meant no harm we treated with every possible dignity, would you care to explain the true nature of these gifts you have, and why you thought lying about their presence and concealing their extent from me and my superiors until it was the only way for you and yours to escape death was the wisest possible action to take?"

[Toliudar]

Prudence

Prudence takes a moment to translate the Captain's questions.

Prudence has found in the past months that these Ottomans were so unaccustomed to a strange woman standing up and speaking directly in their face that it confused and unsettled them. She took full advantage of this, drawing herself up to her full height and stepping into the Captain's personal space to face him down, and made sure that the still-bleeding would from the other captain's magic wand was still visible.

"Do you really need to ask that question? We are your guests and your charge to protect. We just stepped up alongside your crew in a fight that was not our own, risking our lives instead of hiding below. And we helped. Darius just saved the lives of three of your crew, and is fighting right now to relieve others' pain. Samuel's bats kept them distracted and pinned down on their own ship, as did our sabotage of their boarding ramp.

"Far from doing you harm, we have done nothing but help. But on the first day we arrived in this place, soldiers battered Qamar to the ground and tried to imprison her for the colour of her skin.

"So you tell me, Captain. If this voyage had started with a joyous and open conversation in which Samuel demonstrated the ability to fire energy from his hand, and I mentioned that I could inspire great acts of courage with my voice, and Qumar did...anything at all out of the ordinary...what would have happened? Would we have been respected and well received guest, or would you have branded us all devils and imprisoned us, or worse? What choice did we have but to present ourselves, as the people we are but without disclosing these gifts?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Diplomacy: (1d20+17)[31]

[JbeJ275]

The Captain is initially wrong footed by this approach, but does manage to pull himself together as your conversation continues. He does seem somewhat more given to sympathy though.

"I am thankful for what you have done, make no mistake about this but you have to understand what position I am in. These gifts are like nothing I have seen before and they seem to hold an unnatural power for good or for evil. They're like something out of children's tales honestly. So, if one of the officers back home searches your village for a time and comes across further evidence of such magic, if such news reaches us while you are making statements of honesty and of vassalage in the imperial court. If the men and women who wield such witchcraft and arrived on a pillar of light and flame are within the bounds of the imperial court and have not revealed their magic, you would likely have been executed on the spot the moment such news arrived.

"This perhaps is better, you can truthfully claim to have used your gifts in defence of the empire, rather than being outed as secret mystics after the fact. I will have no way of knowing truly whether you are friends of angels, spirits wearing human faces or devils in some mortal disguise. Truly I cannot know, and looking to the health of the crew would make sense regardless. So I will make no effort to decide. You will stay on the ship until the reach the capital, treated as guests of honour as you have been. The crew will no doubt be curious as to your gifts, you may tell them what you like. When we reach the city, I will call upon the most learned scholars the mosques there can offer, and they will judge the nature of your power. Do you consent to this?"

[Thundercracker]

Samuel Arvandor

Samuel swayed unsteadily and continued to apply pressure to his wound as it stains his shirt. He listened carefully to the conversation, and trusted Prudence to steer the captain in the right direction; his command of Turkish was not quite good enough yet. He felt he couldn't go without saying anything though.

"Good doings make good feelings," Samuel said, "Today, I hope our doings make your feelings good. You will see, day by day."

"Talk more soon," Samuel said, "their captain hurt me twice. I could not see his arrows."

Spoiler

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diplomacy improve attitude, take 10 if possible for 34, otherwise: (1d20+24)[35]

[Toliudar]

Prudence

Prudence steps back, feeling like they and the captain were working together towards a solution, rather than being in conflict. She smiles and nods vigorously at the intention in Samuel's words.

"Sir, you speak with empathy and foresight. I would be honoured to have you represent these events, and by extension your understanding of us, before the learned souls at our destination.

"We are still very much newcomers here, and not yet much gifted in the ways of your faith. However, the Quran speaks on this. 'For each one there are angels in succession in front of him and behind him, who guard him by Allah’s command.' Please forgive me if my wording is incorrect - your language is subtle and many-layered.

"I believe that what we can do is not best explained as witchcraft. We have no knowledge of jinn or devils, as you describe them, nor do we know of anything like the evil eye that your scripture describes. However, we do know of guardian spirits, who watch over us and give us abilities to keep us safe. Each of our guardians is different, imparting different gifts. But these spirits do not tempt us to dark, but seek to keep us safe. To the extent that we are anything like what your scripture speaks of, I believe that we are in fact protected by Mu'aqqibat."

[Metastachydium]

It takes some time for the shivering to stop, but far from the bloody deck and the mistrustful stares of the soldiers that Ahmed drove off, Qamar gradually begins to settle down, just as the pain subsides once she ingests enough of what she presumes must be some kind of potion. However strong the urge to just shrink away and hide from everyone and everything may have been, it feels good to not be alone. Ahmed has been incredibly kind. He doesn't look scared or suspicious or ready to deal with her as those brutish thugs back on the island or the lion-pirates did.
But then, Ahmed is a scholar. He had no business being on the deck while the fight was raging. He probably didn't see what she did. The green elf shudders again as the image of the lion-pirate screaming as the acid eats through his flesh resurfaces in her mind. She looks up at Ahmed, her grey eyes welling up with tears again, her arms rising instinctively, defensively. I didn't mean to do it! she jabbers. You have to… You have to believe me! That wasn't… It's… It's not something that I can just do, it just… Happens, and I was scared and now someone's… she shudders again. Now someone's dead.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

NOte that Qamar is not fluent enough in Turkish and can't really think straight enough to realize Ahmed might not understand what she's saying, so she's speaking in Common.

[Bonecrusher Doc]

Darius sighs deeply, washes his bloody hands in a bucket of seawater, and looks around. He closes his eyes for a moment and vaguely remembers Qamar going below with Ahmed. He goes below in search of her. For some reason he feels a particular need to protect the little elf.

[JbeJ275]

Prudence and Samuel

"Ah yes, that at least is true." The captain says, his attention turning now to the bloodstains and tears on Samuel's clothes that seem massive compared to what remains of his wounds. "If you truly were struck twice by pistols assume your lack of wounds is also due to some power of yours, it seems greatly powerful if so. These pistols use... small balls of metals I suppose rather than arrows as projectiles, they're harder to see and move much faster. I'd advise you to ensure they're out before you apply any more of those gifts, unless they work to cure Gangrene as well."

With that he turns to Prudence and regards her again, still cooly but less warily than he did before.

"As I said, I will speak honestly and fairly to the scholars, and they who can better guess at the purpose of your gifts will decide on their nature, if you can speak to these spirits in some way no doubts the scholars will wish to consult them as well, for if these spirits are pious and virtuous they could explain much of what is happening and give great guidance besides.

Qamar

You know Ahmed understands little common, but he picked up enough teaching you Turkish and understands enough of your tone to comprehend at least the overall message, he says little in return but just allows you to say what you need to say and attempts to provide a comforting presence. It makes a strange dichotomy, as you remember seeing him fight like the others in the press of bodies above decks, fighting with hardness and desperation but now being so invested in your wellbeing beyond the physical, as your stream of words slows he eventually returns some gentle reassurances and sits as the tiredness of the fight catches up to you and sleep slowly begins to claim you.

Daruis

You walk in to see Ahmed sitting on a chair in Qamar's room and looking over her as she starts to sleep, from the momentary look you get before he turns to face you he seems to be looking close at the smooth green skin of Qamar's shoulder, perhaps at one of the bruises formed when she was caught out in the fight. Upon noticing your entrance he quickly turns, and quietly waits for you to speak.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sorry for the delay, I've got some Uni deadlines coming up. Now building for the jump to Istanbul and the poitics of the court there so feel free to ask any questions or make any preperations.

In the good news column, for driving off the enemy marines in the face of superior numbers, for your RP and for discovering many things about this new world you can each have 2,300 XP.

[Bonecrusher Doc]

Darius quickly appraises the situation of Qamar and Ahmed. He doesn't know Ahmed well. Darius chooses to say quietly, rhetorically, "She rests." He lingers for a while there in the cabin, pretending to check on Qamar's condition, but really trying to get a feel for Ahmed and what his motivations are in caring for the green lady.

[Toliudar]

Prudence

Prudence finally seems to let down her guard. After the stress of the attack, facing down swords and chains and really loud wands, then a suspicious crew and this tense exchange with the captain, she could feel her reserves depleted. She risked an entire genuine and heartfelt hug for the captain.

"Thank you. Thank you so much, sir."

She turns to Samuel but continues in Turkish.

"I'll go check on Qamar. You should get Darius to look at that."

[Thundercracker]

Samuel Arvandor

Samuel nodded and departed to find Darius.

"Darius, thank you for seeing to the injured," Samuel said. Then he noticed the other two.

"Qamar, are you alright?" he asked.
He nodded to Ahmed.

After making sure the others were not severely injured, Samuel spoke to Darius again.

"Darius, the captain said their weapons shoot small metal balls, and that one might be lodged in me, is there any way for you to check?" he asked, "without cutting me open I mean."

[Metastachydium]

After the incident, Qamar wasn't sure she'll ever be able to sleep well again, but merely talking to Ahmed does a wonderful job lifting at least some of the anxiety, if not the guilt. The scholar's presence is a real blessing, as are the few, half-understood but warmly sympathetic words she receives form the man in response to her ramblings, even as her body decides some rest is long overdue.
She's still half-awake, albeit barely as Darius and then Samuel enters the room. It feels good to have them close and to know that they are alive and seemingly well. Muffled and distant as their words sound to her, she manages to catch Samuel's question and murmur a drowsy It's… Better. before drifting off into a much, much needed slumber.

[Bonecrusher Doc]

Darius (to Samuel)

"I've used up my supplies, but I can at least take a look and do what I can with clean water and what other materials we can find. We may need to get into port in a day or two if it is a difficult wound. Let's go find a place you can lie down... er, if if the ball is deep in there I may need some assistants to, ah, help you hold still, and if there is any alcohol on board it may help you tolerate the experience better."

Spoiler

Show

Darius will take 20 on Heal with a +12 modifier.

[Toliudar]

Prudence

Prudence slumped below decks, following the sound of Danius' voice. When she discovers that all of the other newcomers were crashing in the same cabin, and that Qamar was already drifting off, all thought of trying to have a more detailed conversation evaporated.

Instead, worn out from the battle and the confrontation with the captain, Prudence simply curls up and spoons Qamar, drifting off to sleep.

[JbeJ275]

All

Over the course of the next ten minutes, Daruis examines the wound. It's not really like anything you've seen before, the ball smashing into flesh while still hot from whatever process launched it leaving burns, puncture wounds and fractures from the single blow. All of which were partially healed but none fully. Overall minimal new incisions are needed to clear a path for the ball to be extracted, and the remaining healing magic in Samuel's system covers the tiny and precise cuts. The nature of the wound is odd though, Daruis has learned to treat wounds that threaten to develop filth fever, or similar maladies but it's abnormal for a simple weapon strike to carry such risk of infection. Indeed, when comparing Samuel to the sailors above decks he seems more resistant to the potential of infection in this land, for all that he should be more vulnerable without exposure. Indeed that's the eventual cause of Ahmed's departure from your quarters.

Still today has been long, and none of you are left with much energy for inquiry. Instead you settle in to sleep as evening comes, you feel the boat still as you come in to port, and hear the distant moving of boots above decks as prisoners and wounded men are offloaded. Your dreams, when they come are fitful and often unpleasant, but like all dreams they fade when morning comes and you are all there, still intact and still together.

By the Time you wake, it is to the relief of those sailors who took you from Crete, and the excitement of new boarded men, as you come up above decks to investigate you see a metropolis, unmatched in size or splendor by anything you've witnessed yourself. Men are crowding to one side of the ship but the captain takes you up to the raised deck and with a grin, shows what's before you.

"Ah, our gifted guests wake. Welcome, to Istanbul."



PART TWO: CITY OF THE WORLD'S DESIRE


As you approach the docks the city looms ever larger in your vision, and soon takes on a presence of it's own. Foul smells of human function that once spread across the bay are replaced by the intense and fragrant scent of spices and peppers being hauled to and from the docks in immense crates, you see further down as vast quantities of silks and cotton fabrics are haggled over in markets leading up from the docks, sold by merchants dressed in their finest wares. A group of women in robes that covered the full body walked through the docks, accompanied by two men and seemed to stop and break out in discussion at something they saw further inland. Pieces of paper, mostly devoid of letters but depicting every fantastical act or service covered a wall close to the docks, and you could hear many crying voices offering just a diverse array of pleasures.

You, at least for the moment are confined to the boat, but allowed above decks to watch the city around you, with Ahmed and Ontor staying by your side as the captain and some of his officers go inland. Shortly they return, a carriage driven by a man sparkling with silver accoutrements on his silk uniform. Walking beside it are Janissaries, the elite officer core of the forces in Crete here lining the street, attracting increased attention from many onlookers. As they form up into parade march the captain beckons you towards him, and into the stately carriage, painted a deep read and bearing the mark of the crescent moon and five pointed star in gold on its side.

[Toliudar]

Prudence

Prudence stood next to Ontor, clutching the railing and gazing at the wonders of Istanbul.

Prudence wasn't sure whether any of her companions had been to a big city. Having spent most of her time in Adelar in the metropolis, there was a kind of excitement at returning to a similar kind of setting. Perhaps even one that doesn't have otyughs in the sewers and wererats lurking in alleys. Yeah. That'd be nice.

As she did every day, Prudence mourned the fact that her long-time companion, the brownie Feathers, wasn't here to enjoy this new adventure with her. She'd just have to work to make him proud, wherever he was now.

As the ship drifts toward the docks, Prudence peppers Ontor with question after question. What's that tower? What are the rules about women travelling around the city? Where are the best shopping districts? What's that smoke coming from? Where would they be staying when they arrived? She had been so focused on the big picture questions throughout the voyage that now, when the destination was in sight, she could give herself over to the adventure.

She could trust Samuel to take charge of negotiations for his people. Trust Darius to see to their spiritual needs and keep the quartet safe. Trust Qamar to remember what was truly important. Leaving Prudence to dive in with both feet and have some FUN.

[Thundercracker]

Samuel Arvandor

If any of the wounded men are in danger of dying, Samuel will, with Darius' guidance, use a charge from his healing belt to mend their wounds. The following morning, he uses a charge on himself.

Spoiler

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(2d8)[7]

He watched the bustling metropolis, and more than a few questions rose to his mind.
"How is it the bad men were able to fight so close to Istanbul?" Samuel asked the captain.

[Metastachydium]

Reluctant as she might be to climb back above decks, Qamar does not hesitate to follow the others. The cabin felt good and safe and cozy with them and before that, Ahmed around her, their words, Prudence's warmth against her back, their very presence, but she's not sure she could bear getting left alone with her thoughts and memories and still aching bruises from the day before that she didn't quite dare heal with the belt.
Accordingly, that the deck's been all cleaned up eith little left to remind her of the battle while she was sleeping comes as a more than pleasant surprise to her, but she remains tense and tries to keep her head down, avoiding the eyes of soldiers and sailors, old and new alike as best as she can – which is to say, with little success: she cannot help but stare, her mouth agape, at the City. Qamar thought the one on the island (whatever it was called; something with a k, maybe, or, rather a kh, Kh… Khania? Perhaps that) was huge, inhumanly so, but compared to this… It was nothing. Istanbul seemed to be everywhere, sprawling across the lands and looming over the sea like some massive, primordial beast of unspeakable proportions. It makes her head hurt. It's… Big. she mumbles, fighting back the urge to at least take a few steps backwards and, instead, wedging herself between Ahmed and Darius, instinctively grabbing the healer's shirt sleeve and holding onto it nervously, for a measure of comfort.
Her anxiety only grows, into something bordering panic as the ship docks and the captain leaves, only to return with more soldiers, drawing the eyes of the seemingly endlessly streaming crowd on themselves. This is the very last thing she needs, their attention. The moment she realizes the captain is inviting the four of them into the carriage, she darts forward with a thorougly unbecoming speed and clumsily works her way inside, bending double to show the smallest possible profile in a corner that looks comparatively safe. She has to remind herself of the stakes to keep herself from simply turning invisible: they are in dire straits, even more so when they set sail from Crete. She must carry on. For Mother and Father, Samuel and Prudence and Darius who've just revealed themselves to the Turks, and, by extension everyone in Citallon. She must keep a level head. Or, at any rate, a semblance of that. At least a tiny, vague semblance.

[Bonecrusher Doc]

Darius does his best to look more like a visiting foreign dignitary and less like a bedraggled prisoner or refugee, and when he feels Qamar's tug on his shirt he offers her his arm in a gentlemanly fashion as they approach the carriage, whispering to her to stand tall and proud. When Qamar darts into the carriage instead, he takes a deep breath and follows her in a more stately fashion.

[JbeJ275]

Prudence

Ontor seems enthused by your good cheer and welcomes your questions. "That is Leander's Tower, a watchtower to cover the approach to the city. Women are safest in groups or accompanied in the outer districts or the most respectable districts, but as long as you watch your purse and are modest enough in your fashions the central city will welcome you." He tells you of the cities many Souks and the industrial districts that cut gems, or create glass and pottery in immense furnaces. Though he has no answer for the last, saying that is part of what will likely be decided today.

Samuel

The captain answers your question grimly.

"A night and a day sailing is no short distance in waters this busy, but even that is far too close for comfort. The truth is we do not know, the Venetians used to blockade this waterway, such that you could see them from the towers in the city, and much of our patrolling fleet was captured or destroyed, but with winter they retreated in the face of possible storms. What took that ship back out here, or delayed it's departure I do not know.

All

The carriage shortly drives up through the streets of the city, which thankfully soon outmoves the attention on it and begins to move slowly but steadily through the paved avenues of the city, from the ports towards one of the richer looking districts. In the richer areas the streets show signs of relatively recent celebrations, with flowers now wilting but clearly once spread across the street like bunting. The captain, Ontor and Ahmed are all in the same large carriage.

Eventually the vehicle stops and you are let down, with men then escorting you into an immense building in front of you. The building consists of a large domed roof over a central square with small rooms attached to the outside of this square. Beyond that there are four towers at the points of a rectangle surrounding the building. Those who spent time discussing things with the Turks in crete recognise it as a mosque, a place of worship for the islamic people.

Once you're escorted inside you are taken through several ornate corridors to a large chamber. It is not the main hall of the building but seemingly some other place, filled mostly with desks that all face a raised desk at the front of the room. There is less religious symbology than you might expect but all of the men at the large bench and many other sitting around the edges of the room and dressed in what appears to be priestly garb, the man at the centre of the front desk, a heavy built man in ornate robes, is talking quietly with two other men, dressed in finery but not in the religious or military garb of other people in the room. After some sudden discussion flaring up after your entrance, of which you catch only snippets a call for silence is made. Once this silence is found a man steps forward and speaks loudly.

"To answer the question of if those people from Citallon, the city that appeared upon the Island of Crete are wielding unnatural magics. And if so, whether the wielding of such magics is equivalent to the crime of witchcraft, with all the penalties and punishments thereof. Proceeding over the trial shall be the Shaykh al-Islām Ḥocazāde Mesʿud Efendi."

With that, the man at the centre of the desk stands and looks at you four. His lip curls in a sneer and he says. "Very well, let the witches speak first of their arts. What are the talents and powers each of you possesses and how did you gain such magic?

[Toliudar]

Prudence

As the welcoming procession morphs rather abruptly into a trial, Prudence closes her eyes and murmurs a very soft stream of profanities in elven. She glances at her colleagues, sizing up their chances of coming through this without being burned, stabbed, crushed by stones...whatever this particular flavour of moron did with things that they didn't understand.

Since their accuser had clearly already made up his mind about them, it didn't seem to do much harm to try to disrupt the rhythm of his interrogation. She leaned forward to murmur to her companions.

"The judge has already decided that we're witches. Remember. We have natural gifts that are provided by guardian angels. Keep details to a minimum."

Prudence rose to her feet with whatever grace she could manage, then bowed low to the man at the desk.

"Shaykh al-Islām Ḥocazāde Mesʿud Efendi, we are humble representatives of our community, and do not understand all of this talk of witchcraft. Our gifts are entirely natural in the land we have come from. Gifts from guardian spirits. So if you wish to hear from witches, we humbly apologize for not being able to assist, because we do not know any."

She takes her seat.

Spoiler: OOC

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Let's start the diplomacy checks!

(1d20+17)[25]