Iron Crisis Pt3 IC

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 12 HP: 34/61 HD:7/7d8 Spells: 1st: 4/4 2nd: 1/3 3rd: 1/3 4th: 1/1 First Impression: lightly clothed and bloodied, clutching a holy symbol Conditions: - Senna signals the civilians to stay below deck just beside the stairway. She knew the clamor of battle and did not want them to fall victim. You start moving up when you can feel the waters on your ankles. You shout clearly signaling your advance so we can cover you. With that she comes upstairs. She sees a giant skull in melee with her newly formed allies, and an all too familiar priestess to the south. Seeing her elven ally stunned, she sends six purple orbs towards the enemy cleric hopefully crushing her concentration on said spell. Spoiler Show Upcast to third level Magic Missile: (1d4+1)[4] x5 Have fun rolling 5 concentration saves.

[Bobthewizard]

Leaf Tabaxi Ranger 4/Rogue 3 AC: 15 HP: 41/60 PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 14 HD: 4/4d10, 4/4d8, Conditions: none Spell Slots, 1st: 3/3 LR Favored Foe: 2/3 LR Restrain: 2/3 Dawn Leaf prepares his bow, slowly raises his head over the railing, and fires an arrow, trying to catch his target off-guard. After shooting, he climbs back down to the side of the ship, just far enough to be out of melee range if someone leans over. Spoiler: OOC Show Hide (1d20+11)[22], (1d20+11)[26] (they have disadvantage to see him due to his cloak) Target wounded spell casters first, then closest bandit. Attack with Elven Accuracy: (1d20+12)[30], (1d20+12)[21], (1d20+12)[15] Damage: (1d8+7)[15] Colossus if injured: (1d8)[8] Sneak attack: (2d6)[6][3](9) = 32 damage If Crit (1d8)[2] base + (1d8)[6] piercer + (1d8)[4] colossus + (2d6)[7] sneak attack Piercer reroll lowest d8 if roll 3 or less: (1d8)[3] If no d8 at 3 or less, reroll lowest d6 2 or less (1d6)[1]

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam | Grepha Half-Dragon Warlock/Bard | Imp Warlock AC: 11 HP: 51/55 | AC: 16 HP: 15/26 PP: 10|13 PIv: 15|12 PIs: 11|13 Concentrating: Heroism (Senna) | Armor of Shadows, Raven Form, Invisible Using his wings, Sam buffets the thug running in from behind and throws himself backwards, avoiding any openings for attack. With one hand he draws a card and fires another pair of blasts into the crowd of assassins, thankful for Vala's celestial intervention. The hail of magical projectiles slam into Grepha and crack open her ice armor. As the last one strikes, she pulls her magic around herself and makes herself vanish into thin air, hopefully fooling the mage into thinking her banished. Spoiler: Actions Show Sam Concentration holds, rolled in Discord. Bonus action to Tumble, moving 2 NE. Cast EB on Silent Assassin on the edge of the boat again to hopefully hurl him off the edge and into the water. (1d20+6)[15] Blast 1 (1d10)[2] damage and a Ring Out if it hits (1d20+6)[13] Blast 2 also at him if Blast 1 misses. If he got Ringed Out, it will target the Assassin Mage by Grepha (1d10)[2] damage and possible Ring Out on Silent Assassin. If targeting mage then depending on height to the dock either knocks him onto it or deals (1d4)[4] bump damage Grepha Turn Invisible. (1d20+4)[14] Deception to make it look like the magic missiles took her out. If the mage is also bumped away, she moves 3 N and 2 Up.

[Archmage1]

Grok Dwarf Paladin 7 AC: 9 HP: 27/77 PP: 10 PIv: 9 PIs: 10 HD: 7/7d10, Conditions: none Not giving the assassin the respect of bleeding, Grok doesn't hesitate to bellow a battle cry as he thrusts his glaive at the man who just stabbed him, attempting to knock him out of the fight before stepping five feet to the southeast to set himself up to discourage the two closer assassins if possible. Spoiler: OOC Show Attacking twice(And smiting, in hopes of killing this assassin as quickly as possible), then moving 5 feet southeast so he can stab the other two assassins if they continue to advance. (1d20+9)[20] Attack 1 (1d10+6)[16] damage 1 (2d8)[8] Smite (1d20+9)[26] Attack 2 (1d10+6)[11] damage 2 (2d8)[8] Smite

[Amnestic]

Senna's barrage of the arcane slams into the woman, and when Leaf's arrow lands in her shoulder with a painful thunk a shimmer of magic surrounds her. Frantically, she grabs at an amulet around her neck and you get to hear her shout "Wait, no, not yet, I'm not-" before she blips out of sight and vanishes. The massive skull likewise fades out, leaving the path to the thug guarding the ship exit free and clear.

Sam's beam slams into the assassin, knocking them from the ship to splash into the icy water below, but it does not finish the man, who pulls himself out from the frigid sea and switches target to the next nearest foe, that being Leaf, grasping to the side of the vessel too. Whether anger at being dunked into the water or simply Leaf being half-occupied by holding tight to the shipside, the assassin manages to land two bitterly harsh strikes against the archer.

The second blast from Sam goes wide, and Grepha's unable to mask the fact they still live - casting such a spell in the face of another spellcaster isn't the most subtle of gestures, but subtle or not the imp's invisibility still takes effect.

With twin radiant glaive swings, Grok first cuts the man across the chest and then removes his arm with a final strike. The assassin collapses in a pool of their quickly chilling blood, their now-missing limb falling some feet away.

Spoiler: Map

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Senna and Leaf damage the Kara-Turian cleric enough that she's forcibly teleported out against her will.
Guardian of Faith vanishes at the same time, and likewise Hold Person is broken.
Sam hits the assassin off the ship. They climb up the side to hit Leaf, critting once and hitting on the follow up for 16 slashing total.
Grok deals exact damage to slay his assassin target, needing both smites to do so.

Vala, ??? and Caelyn are now up.

Initiative order:

Grepha: [23]
Sam: [21]
Grok: [17]
Leaf: [16]

EA: [15]

Vala: [14]
???: [12]
Caeyln: [9]

EV: [4]
ES: [4]

Senna: [1]

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/54 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: Concentrating on: 7 / 7 d8 HD Spell Slots- 4/4 1st, 3/3 2nd, 0/3 3rd, 0/1 4th Caelyn, mindful of the enemy within arms reach of her, moves aside, risking an errant blade but securing some space to work with closer to the exit of the ship. She begins murmuring the same words in Druidic that she said before, extending two forked fingers on one hand and her staff with the other, then begins laying down a salvo of closely monitored searing beams, applying them with precision to try to down the man she heavily scorched, then move on to the next target, and so on. Cinders rained from her hair as it twisted in a warm breeze, licks of flame dropped from her eyes and tumbled down her lips like wine, and firelight danced in her eyes and she spun in a slow, rotating circle, sending out beams of sizzling death. She was ablaze, the ship was drowning, and the night was alight with joy, outrage, and shame as she rained death on those who had the gall to attack her family and her friends, old and new.

Spoiler: OOC

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Four scorching rays, focusing on the heaviest wounded, then moving on to the next, and so forth. 1's become 2's for damage die, and resistance is negated. (1d20+7)[16] to hit and (2d6)[5][3](8) fire damage. (1d20+7)[23] to hit and (2d6)[5][4](9) fire damage. (1d20+7)[18] to hit and (2d6)[5][6](11) fire damage. (1d20+7)[19] to hit and (2d6)[4][5](9) fire damage. Just in case of a crit, here's (2d6)[5][4](9) more fire damage. Moving away from the thug near Sam and Caelyn first to provoke an AoO and get closer to the exit before firing off the rays, just to be clear.

[Awful]

??? High Elf Eldritch Knight. Darkvision: 60ft Blindsight: 10ft AC: 17 HP: 68/72 PP: 15 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 7 / 7 d8 HD Second wind 1d10+7 1/1 Action surge 0/1 Spell Slots- 4/4 1st, 1/2 2nd Frozen in place and then her prey disappearing, the elf huffed with irritation. Perhaps the problem was her more direct approach? Carelessly, she let the giant axe dropps to the floor, the flames on the blade winking out as it drove itself into the deck. Moving with sudden abrupt silence, she padded over behind the nearby mast and drew the longbow from the case. She took a moment to look down at it. She'd never used it before, but how could it be complicated? It was just... do that and let go, surely? The first arrow completely squiffed the advantage of stealth and sailed harmlessly into the sea some distance away, but the second was a much closer shot, aimed at the man who had previously stood beneath the giant - now mysteriously absent - headbone.

Spoiler: OOC

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Free action: drop the axe.
Move: Move behind the mast.
BA: Stealth check, 26
Action: Shoot twice at mage by the skull.
First is 11 to hit, and no doubt a miss.
Second is a 17 with a 5 pierce damage if hit.

Reaction: Will cast shield if struck.

[Amnestic]

???'s arrow punctures past the spellcaster's armour, and when Caelyn's fiery beams follow it the strike his eyes through his mask, burning them out from the inside with an unpleasant pop. The man screams in agony before collapsing to the deck dead. Just as the thug raises his crossbow once more to take aim at Caelyn, the marching boots arrive, revealing a contingent of Flaming Fist soldiers - at least a half-dozen - in full plate with halberds held at the ready, leading horse-drawn carriages. The sudden arrival of the guards causes your assailants to hold, eyes narrowing through the mist. One of the armoured mercenaries calls out, his voice cutting through the cold morning air with gruff protocol.

"Stow your weapons, raise your hands and exit the vessel immediately. If you continue to fight we will put you down." Your assassins hesitate, but then drop their weapons at their feet and raise their hands to concede. Their faces twist from their stoic murderous into cruel smirks - knowing smirks - that express an unnerving amount of smugness.

Spoiler: OOC

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You could continue to fight if you want, and if so I'll post a map and we'll pick up the fight some more, but I'm expecting you to follow the Fist's orders/request here. They did say "stow" instead of "drop" your weapons, so you're not required to leave them on a sinking ship.

Initiative order (if we still need it)

Grepha: [23]
Sam: [21]
Grok: [17]
Leaf: [16]

EA: [15]

Vala: [14]
???: [12]
Caeyln: [9]

EV: [4]
ES: [4]

Senna: [1]

[Bobthewizard]

Leaf Tabaxi Ranger 4/Rogue 3 AC: 15 HP: 25/60 PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 14 HD: 4/4d10, 4/4d8, Conditions: none Spell Slots, 1st: 3/3 LR Favored Foe: 2/3 LR Restrain: 2/3 Dawn Out of sight of the guards, Leaf tries to push the assassin off the side of the ship, assuming his claws will let him hang on to the side better. He's not really hoping to accomplish anything. He's just mad that the man stabbed him. He then moves up the side of the ship, flips over the railing, and stows his bow as instructed, casually walking towards the pier. Spoiler: OOC Show Shove (1d20+3)[13] BA disengage if needed move onto the deck.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/54 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: Concentrating on: 7 / 7 d8 HD Spell Slots- 4/4 1st, 3/3 2nd, 0/3 3rd, 0/1 4th Fresh of the satisfaction of putting an enemy down with her heat beams, Caelyn looked to the sound of reinforcements with satisfaction. Then she saw the naked lack of worry when the Flaming Fist showed up in her opponents eyes. They didn't look like men about to be arrested. They looked like the reinforcements were here for THEM. Another minute and we would have beaten them! Looking to the smoking mage, she tried to set her features cold, but quickly she realized the utter impossibility of making yourself look distant and deferential when you look like you are on fire. Brushing at the cinders and stamping out the flames at her feet, Caelyn angled her staff towards the ground and approached the gangplank with a wary eye for her assailants and a concerned, anxious look to the patrons they'd met (or at least seen) the night before. It was when her mind returned to the many dead who were currently being dragged down by the sinking ship, that ones that their deciding to stay there had gotten killed. Probably not complete innocents, based on the demeanor of the rough and tumble party boat. but assuredly not deserving what came their way over the evening. Did she really have confidence that the security of a drunken vice den of a boat could twart the Iron Throne's best resources in Baldur's Gate? Or did she know she was just picking the battlefield when her siblings asked her where to stay for her birthday. ****. Happy birthday to her. She didn't have right to speak for their acquaintances from the evening before, and she feared she'd lost the right to speak for the entirety of her family, but she could speak for herself well enough. She had managed to collect herself, downplay the fireworks through supreme effort of will and a large dose of regret, and stepped off the ship before she spoke up. "Let there be no misunderstanding. I am a druid. I've worked with the Fist before, as have some of my friends. I saw these...." she points to the enemy survivors of the brawl, and every time her eyes locked on them the tips of her hair began to smoke. Just a little. "Attacked this boat, sink it, and killed many patrons. I hope we can sort all this out."

Spoiler: OOC

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Insight of 20 rolled in the discord to figure out what we're dealing with and how worried we have to be.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam | Grepha Half-Dragon Warlock/Bard | Imp Warlock AC: 11 HP: 51/55 | AC: 16 HP: 15/26 PP: 10|13 PIv: 15|12 PIs: 11|13 Concentrating: Heroism (Senna) | Armor of Shadows, Raven Form, Invisible Lowering his hands and releasing the arcane energy, Sam shrugs off the last sparks and hops up to the pier, helping the other patrons over from the sinking ship. He pays careful mind to the assassins' expressions, and their lack of worry. Clearly things were far from off-plan. Grepha, go contact Schael. Let her know what happened and that we may be detained by bribed officers. They'd only known her briefly, but to Sam's eyes the woman seemed to be clean and professional. Keeping quiet for the moment as Caelyn explains, Sam raises his head to proudly display the symbol of Bahamut around his neck, and sorts through the relevant laws of the Gate in his head. Grepha meanwhile, already invisible, does her best to glide quietly away from the scene and seek out their potential ally among the Fist. Spoiler: Actions Show Sam (1d20+8)[26] History for the relevant laws to their situation, such as self-defense and citizens' arrest (1d20+8)[19] History again for the relevant laws regarding unlawful arrest and legal representation, should the officers be corrupt Grepha (1d20+5)[16] Stealth if needed (1d20+5)[14] Stealth Adv

[Amnestic]

The assassin shifts away from Leaf's shove, deftly loosening his grip just enough to flow with the motion and use it to push him up, not down, as he climbs up and over the railing, likewise raising his hands in surrender.

"All involved will be held and interrogated until we get to the bottom of this. Your weapons and spellcasting implements will be confiscated during your detainment, and will be returned upon your release. If you have done nothing wrong then you have nothing to fear." For a moment at the news she'd have to surrender her spear it looks like Vala might actually do something incredibly stupid, but a glance at the rest of the party holds her back, and she concedes. The few remaining attackers remove themselves from the still sinking ship and surrender their weapons, before being herded into the back of one of the horse-drawn wagons.

The citizens rush to the deck and immediately fall on the Fist soldiers crying with thanks, fear, and general relief. The emotional events of nearly being gutted in a sinking ship have finally overcome them as they, too, are checked for weapons (they don't have any) and then herded into the back of the wagon, leaving just your party. The Fist wave you forwards, beckoning for you to submit yourself to the checks.

Spoiler: Skill Checks

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Spoiler: Grok

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You see no indication the Flaming Fist are anything other than upstanding, but it's not exactly easy to tell since it's the middle of a dark, misty morning and they're clad in full plate mail with no visible faces, and only one of them has spoken.

Spoiler: Caelyn

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The Flaming Fist, from what you can tell, seem intent on taking everyone in. There's nothing to indicate they're biased in any way, nor that they're doing anything other than following protocol.
The assassins seem to be fine with this.

Spoiler: Sam

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Self defense killing usually result in an minor fine (up to 50 gold maximum per kill) and an exile from the city for a week or two.

There's no such thing as unlawful arrest, because that would imply the Flaming Fist could be corrupt, and since that's impossible (according to the law), all arrests are lawful and legal. At least, officially. Unofficially depends on the size of your coinpurse and influence with the Dukes.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam | Grepha Half-Dragon Warlock/Bard | Imp Warlock AC: 11 HP: 51/55 | AC: 13 HP: 15/26 PP: 10|13 PIv: 15|12 PIs: 11|13 Concentrating: Heroism (Senna) | Raven Form, Invisible Sam Submitting to the search, Sam turns over his weapons and his rather conspicuously holstered deck of cards. At the very least, he has access to some basic cantrips and his fire breath without them. As they climb into the back of the wagon, Sam makes a shushing gesture at his siblings and their new companions, urging them not to say too much. Grepha After putting distance between herself and the others, Grepha lands upon one of the rooftops and shifts forms, scrawling out a note to tie to her own leg. Best not to be an abnormally suspicious talking raven when addressing their Fist contact. After casting off her armor of shadows, she turns invisible once more and takes wing, soaring towards the gatehouse by the bridge. Spoiler: Grepha's Note Show There has been an attempt on our lives at the Low Lantern by hired assassins who have sunk the vessel. After escaping, we are being detained by the Flaming Fist. The assassins appear too confident and most likely have a plan for this. -Sam and co.

[Awful]

??? High Elf Eldritch Knight. Darkvision: 60ft Blindsight: 10ft AC: 17 HP: 68/72 PP: 15 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 7 / 7 d8 HD Second wind 1d10+7 1/1 Action surge 0/1 Spell Slots- 4/4 1st, 1/2 2nd The elf clicked her tongue in irritation. Everyone seemed to have just stopped fighting as soon as the Warm Hand or whoever has shown up. There was no satisfying conclusion to things. She plucked her familiar out the air, placing him in the space next to her soul, inside in a way that had nothing to do with red and wobbly bits no matter how you chopped them. He squeaked a caw out before he disappeared. She ignored it, brooding on the end of the battle. Now everyone was giving their weapons to the new arrivals, so presumably that was the custom after these events. It was vaguely upsetting, in a way. Not that it mattered if they took the axe, she supposed, she could just get it back with a snap of her fingers, but it was the principle of the thing, is as far as she'd learned any principles in her scant hours of life outside the tower. She wasn't even disarmed with the loss of the axe, and she absently-mindedly clicked out her claws and back in as she retrieved the weapon. She wondered how people generally disarmed elves, clawed as they were. Did they chop off the fingers? That would be inconvenient. She shoved the heavy axe into the waiting hands of the Heated Gloves, along with the longbow. They better not make it grubby. On the cart, she hummed to herself thoughtfully, her enormous golden hairdrills bobbing with the motion. "I have definitely concluded," she said, to no one in particular, "That was an unsatisfactory lodging experience."

Spoiler: OOC

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[Archmage1]

Grok Dwarf Paladin 7 AC: 9 HP: 27/77 PP: 10 PIv: 9 PIs: 10 HD: 7/7d10, Conditions: none His glaive readied to lash out at the approaching assassin, Grok pauses as the Flaming Fist arrive, but he keeps a wary eye on the assassins. It isn't until after they drop their weapons that he raises the haft of his out of the ready position, and eyes the approaching guards... and notes the expression on the faces of the assassins. Still, combat was clearly over, and the bloody dwarf wasn't too interested in starting it anew, instead reaching down and picking up the unconscious assassin he had been carrying, clearly intending to take the assassin with him as he approaches the Flaming Fist. "Morning. Name's Grok. Of Magmaforge. Any problem with me interrogating this fellow?". He shakes his carried assassin. "Think he has something to do with the attack on my clan.". His voice is gravely, but unpained, despite the multitude of stab wounds, the almost total lack of clothing, and the large pack and assassin he was carrying. As he speaks, he flashes his signet ring. Spoiler: OOC Show (1d20+5)[13] Persuasion

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam | Grepha Half-Dragon Warlock/Bard | Imp Warlock AC: 11 HP: 51/55 | AC: 13 HP: 15/26 PP: 10|13 PIv: 15|12 PIs: 11|13 Concentrating: Heroism (Senna) | Raven Form, Invisible Sam Grok's address of the Fist comes as a surprise, but Sam weighs in, "Sir Magmaforge conducted himself with utmost professionalism when attacked, aiming to incapacitate. Unfortunately, the assailants didn't care much for rescuing their own fellows from the sinking ship." Spoiler: Roll Show Help for Grok's Persuasion.

[Bobthewizard]

Leaf Tabaxi Ranger 4/Rogue 3 AC: 15 HP: 25/60 PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 14 HD: 4/4d10, 4/4d8, Conditions: none Spell Slots, 1st: 3/3 LR Favored Foe: 2/3 LR Restrain: 2/3 Dawn Leaf reluctantly hands over his bow and arrows. He's been through this before, both with the Flaming Fist and in other cities. Never for anything major, just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. This time, he knows he did nothing wrong, but he also knows that's no guarantee of acquittal. While he doesn't know any of his fellow shipmates very well, they all fought honorably this morning, so he vows to help them escape too if he can. After he is searched, he looks for something he can pocket that might be useful - keys, daggers, badges, a small piece of metal he could use to pick a lock - anything that might help him escape from prison... again. Spoiler: OOC Show Perception: (1d20+7)[16]

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/54 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: Concentrating on: 7 / 7 d8 HD Spell Slots- 4/4 1st, 3/3 2nd, 0/3 3rd, 0/1 4th The mere suggestion that Caelyn hand over her weapons, her totems, and her ability to defend herself nearly started the fight anew, but looking at Sam and Senna she realized that arguing with a Fist patrol would only make things worse. "I'd appreciate a receipt." She muttered as she handed over her staff, bow, scimitar, white birch arrow, yew wand, daggers.... she really did carry a lot of weapons for a spellcaster. When the quiet elf she'd seen around the boat the night before voiced disapproval for their lodgings, Caelyn's head drooped a bit and she looked to Sam and Senna, though she spoke loudly enough that anyone who would be entering their cart could hear, but hopefully quietly enough not to amount to a confession to the Fist soldiers.. "Is it... wrong... for us to stay at inns at this point? This keeps happening. People keep getting hurt. I know we're not drowning in options... but... I can't help but feel... responsible... for this. For these people's suffering."

[Awful]

??? High Elf Eldritch Knight. Darkvision: 60ft Blindsight: 10ft AC: 17 HP: 68/72 PP: 15 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 7 / 7 d8 HD Second wind 1d10+7 1/1 Action surge 0/1 Spell Slots- 3/4 1st, 1/2 2nd The elf blinked and looked around as Caelyn spoke. She focused her lambent gold eyes on the other elf. Her head inclined to the side, like a curious beast. "Why are you responsible?" she asked. Despite it being a question, her voice was flat, almost sounding like a statement. "In my current experience, the suffering comes from being stabbed. You did not seem to be stabbing people. Though you did burn some, so perhaps that might count. I have not been burnt yet, so I could not say." She paused, and then added thoughtfully. "The last time I rested, I too had an invasion by ruffians. It might just be a common experience."

Spoiler: OOC

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[Amnestic]

The blank mask of the Flaming Fist soldier makes reading their expression impossible - deliberately so - but you could swear they raised a skeptical eyebrow in response to the request for a receipt. You watch as your items are stored away in a thick chest and locked tight as you're piled into the closed wagon - separate from the assassins. "Any further dealings will have to wait. If you're guilty of murder you won't be speaking to anyone." The man's words are calm and directed, a surprising amount of professionalism that seems at odds with the confidence the assailants displayed. "I would consider what you will say carefully." The door is closed - and locked - behind you. It's not an incredibly tight fit inside, but it's hard to say it's comfortable. They at least have felt comfortable enough disarming you that you're not shackled and can move freely, though there's little to move about in. You note it's kept incredibly clean and tidy. Here, at least, there's nothing that can clearly be used for lockpicking or chainbreaking.

Through the barred windows you can watch the deck of the Low Lantern slip beneath the waterline, its masts still protruding above, but tilting as the ship falls on its edge. As the horses begin their procession back through the city, you note a few Flaming Fist lingering behind and overhear one loudly complain about having to pull bodies and items out of the water, at the very least confirming that your items are not being given up for good - though they might be a bit drenched after the fact.

Spoiler: OOC

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Giving a chance for some actual introductory stuff between players, since you were thrown into it before. Name exchange, sharing info, etc. etc.

[Bobthewizard]

Leaf Tabaxi Ranger 4/Rogue 3 AC: 15 HP: 25/60 PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 14 HD: 4/4d10, 4/4d8, Conditions: none Spell Slots, 1st: 3/3 LR Favored Foe: 2/3 LR Restrain: 2/3 Dawn Leaf relaxes once he's placed in the wagon. He knows he's caught and that there's nothing to do right now but wait for his opportunity. He looks around at his new companions, trying to determine their assessment of the situation. "I'm Leaf. Scout and guide. I normally wouldn't be worried. When you get picked up by the Fist for defending yourself, usually there' someone to corroborate your story and they let you go. I've been here a few times. But these assassins seem connected and to have a purpose. Have any of you pissed off someone powerful?" He asks that last part knowing full well that all of the assassins might have been looking just for him. From his early fight against the Iron Throne, to some of his more ill-conceived thefts in the past few months, he knows he's made some powerful enemies and might have just gotten everyone else into trouble. "Oh, do any of you have small piece of metal? Something small and sharp that I could use to pick a lock. That comes in handy sometimes in these situations." Spoiler: OOC Show Perception: [roll0]

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam | Grepha Half-Dragon Warlock/Bard | Imp Warlock AC: 11 HP: 51/55 | AC: 13 HP: 15/26 PP: 10|13 PIv: 15|12 PIs: 11|13 --- | Raven Form, Invisible Sam Sam doesn't really have an answer to Caelyn's question. The events of this morning swirl around in his head, the ways they could have done things differently But... "If they were here for all of us, then staying somewhere else would have just had two places hit. The only way to put a stop to this is to put a stop to them." "Right, Leaf. I think we met at the tavern, when Cae was partying!" Sam smiles, trying to remain optimistic despite the situation. The half-dragon is tall and broad-shouldered, with warmly colored brass scales. But he is rather thin and lanky for his kind, not showing much athletic prowess. "I'm Sam, nice to meet you all in spit eof the circumstances." Reaching over, he places a hand over the worst of the dwarf's wounds. "Restituo. You were Sir Magmaforge, right?" Spoiler: Rolls Show Spending 2 1st level slots to heal Grok for 16 total. With the forced smile on his face taking a downward turn, he tells the others in a hushed voice, "The Iron Throne is no doubt involved. We've been looking into their corrupt businesses and they're behind the bandits and the Iron Crisis. But we can't tell the Fist about the Throne, not yet. They're too connected. There needs to be irrefutable proof in the right hands first, and we're trying to get some to one of the Dukes know isn't in bed with them, like Duke Silvershield." Sitting back up after applying what healing he could, Sam explains their situation, "Killing in self-defense is only a fine and a period of exile from the city. It could be the assassins intend the Fist to exile us so that we can't bring the evidence in before their plans unfold. However, the sinking of the ship means that we would have been unable to stabilize the wounded. I suggest we use that as our defense. It was the sinking ship that killed the ones who fell by preventing medical attention from being delivered. Maybe not the only thing, but," he pauses his hushed briefing to shrug. "Grok dragging one of them out alive gives credence to our argument, so we can use that if the assassins try to refute us."

[Archmage1]

Grok Dwarf Paladin 7 AC: 9 HP: 27/77 PP: 10 PIv: 9 PIs: 10 HD: 7/7d10, Conditions: none Grok grumbles under his breath as he is relieved of his heavy bag, his prisoner, and his glaive, leaving him bleeding in the street and very little of him is left to the imagination. Like many a dwarf, Grok's beard is practically a work of art, the brown hair woven through an intricate set of jewelry, decorated with a shield and anvil symbol. His brown eyes seem piercing, and a well controlled fury seems to blaze behind them. His musculature is quite impressive, despite his lofty height of 4'3", and his movements are well practiced, and well controlled. Also, he is bleeding heavily from a multitude of knife wounds decorating his hairy chest. Inside the wagon, he sits, and, with the help of a slight pull-up, looks through the window at the sinking boat, and the swearing of the guard. Afterwards, as the view disappears, he releases his grip, and takes a seat on the now bloody bench. "Not a great start." After a few moments of silence, Grok looks to the tabaxi, Leaf, his eyes not exactly happy. "Guards, or thugs?"

[Awful]

??? High Elf Eldritch Knight. Darkvision: 60ft Blindsight: 10ft AC: 17 HP: 68/72 PP: 15 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 7 / 7 d8 HD Second wind 1d10+7 1/1 Action surge 0/1 Spell Slots- 3/4 1st, 1/2 2nd Iron Throne? Throne - chair - seat. A chair was unlikely to be behind disorder, so it was something else. Thus the elf interjected here, blinking guilelessly at the lizard. "What is the Iron Throne? And the Iron Crisis? I am looking for some 'bandits' as they were described. Should I be looking for this Iron Throne?"

Spoiler: OOC

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[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam | Grepha Half-Dragon Warlock/Bard | Imp Warlock AC: 11 HP: 51/55 | AC: 13 HP: 15/26 PP: 10|13 PIv: 15|12 PIs: 11|13 --- | Raven Form, Invisible Sam Did this girl crawl out of the woods? Sam wonders to himself, scratching his chin and thinking of the best way to explain. She seems to have an educated vocabulary, but maybe she's just really sheltered like Skie was. "It's a name, the name of a trading organization. They buy, sell and exchange goods. But they've also been using bandits and trickery to interfere with their competition. Did you get abducted by bandits? Where are your parents?"

[Bobthewizard]

Leaf Tabaxi Ranger 4/Rogue 3 AC: 15 HP: 25/60 PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 14 HD: 4/4d10, 4/4d8, Conditions: none Spell Slots, 1st: 3/3 LR Favored Foe: 2/3 LR Restrain: 2/3 Dawn Leaf continues to keep an eye out for something he could use to pick locks. He's intrigued by Grok's question. He doesn't quite understand what the dwarf means, but does his best to answer. "Guards or thugs? I've had run ins with both over the years, but I didn't recognize any of these guards or assassins." As Sam explains the Iron Throne to the elf, Leaf knows he needs to come clean about his history with them too. "The Iron Throne attacked my tribe in the jungles of Chult. I was young, but I hid, hunted them with my bow and eventually killed their sorcerer. I didn't know they were looking for me, but it is possible. If you are trying to take them down, I'd love to help." He smiles at the last part, content to have a purpose gain beyond swindling enough gold for a bed and a decent meal. Spoiler: OOC Show

[Archmage1]

Grok Dwarf Paladin 7 AC: 9 HP: 43/77 PP: 10 PIv: 9 PIs: 10 HD: 7/7d10, Conditions: none Reaching over, he places a hand over the worst of the dwarf's wounds. "Restituo. You were Sir Magmaforge, right?" Healed by the strange half dragon wizard, Grok nods his thanks almost idly as he stares, fixedly, at the window behind Leaf. After Leaf's response, he nods. "We'll find out." Spoiler: OOC Show

[Awful]

??? High Elf Eldritch Knight. Darkvision: 60ft Blindsight: 10ft AC: 17 HP: 68/72 PP: 15 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 7 / 7 d8 HD Second wind 1d10+7 1/1 Action surge 0/1 Spell Slots- 3/4 1st, 1/2 2nd "I understand," she said in reply to Sam, her flat tone making it entirely ambiguous if she actually did or not."Though I am not a competing trade agency. Their methods seem inconsiderate." "I was not abducted. Unless this counts, I suppose." She frowned at the iron bars of the cage around them."I was not sure of the custom after a battle. This seemed to be the thing to do. Perhaps I should leave." The golden-haired axewoman was silent for a moment as she thought before she answered the final question. "I do not know the location of any parents. The intruders fled with several materials. When I described them to those I met, others called them 'bandits'. It is possible those contained information on parental creatures."

Spoiler: OOC

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[Amnestic]

The wagon continues to trundle through the city's quiet streets. The explosive engagement you had upon the Low Lantern may have drawn the Flaming Fist and the odd rubbernecker but most of the city is still decidedly asleep, ignorant of the events that have transpired at least until dawn's first light where it will no doubt spread through the city like wildfire.

Meanwhile, Grepha...

The raven-imp finds the guard post staffed, but Schael is nowhere in sight. Her shift presumably concluded some time ago. Grepha finds a (figurative) skeleton crew staffing it, looking distinctly bored. One is sleeping, their quiet snores not hindering the card tower that the only other guard is making.

The Party

As your conversation continues, the wagon slows to a halt. The door is unlocked and you're summoned out. Before you, on the western side of the city, is the Flaming Fist garrison, the centre of their power which also serves as their prisons and dungeons - not the only one in the city, but certainly the most secure (at least officially). You're locked into two separate cells - separated by gender - for what seems like hours, and any attempt to wrest information from the guards is fruitless, as they remain steadfastly silent, save to warn you off from acting out.

From your cell you see the civilians you rescued, and the assassins, in separate cells. One by one they are removed and disappear, not to return. After an interminable wait, two more soldiers appear, unlocking both your cells, and calling all of you out at once. You're lead down winding corridors not into an interrogation room, but instead into what looks to be an officer's office. Trophies and medals adorn the wall, along with a set of ceremonial armour and weapons. Though lit by lanterns, you can see dawn's light peeking through the east-facing windows that look out onto the city.

The centre of the room is dominated by a thick oaken desk piled high with papers that despite their number appear clearly ordered and piled. Sat behind it is a man in his mid-40s. His hair has been shorn on the sides and he wears the remaining length into a topknot. He doesn't look up when you enter but waves the guards out. There are only two chairs in front of the desk, and seven of you.

"I had hoped we would be meeting under more casual circumstances, but it seems that wherever you go trouble seems to follow." The officer mutters, his face still pointed down at the papers he's scraping away on. Finally he sets down his quill and looks up. He bears the features of a man of the far east, though his accent is decidedly of the Gate. A neatly trimmed goatee surrounds his mouth, but no question his most notable feature is the massive scar that stretches bisects across his face, from hairline to jaw and beyond. Someone or something massive cut his face open, and miraculously he survived. Large bags of sleeplessness hang beneath his eyes, the kind worn there over years and years of inadequate rest.

"I am Scar, second-in-command of the Flaming Fist. Further introductions aren't necessary." He pats a pile of papers to his side. He's not wearing armour or carrying any visible weapons, but there's an aura of quiet competence and confidence about his movements. "Interviews have been conducted with the others who survived, and I believe I have a grasp of what went on at Low Lantern, but if you have any additional information to provide, now is the time." He leans back in his chair and tents his fingers. "The floor is yours."

[Awful]

??? High Elf Eldritch Knight. Darkvision: 60ft Blindsight: 10ft AC: 17 HP: 68/72 PP: 15 PIv: 12 PIs: 12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 7 / 7 d8 HD Second wind 1d10+7 1/1 Action surge 0/1 Spell Slots- 3/4 1st, 1/2 2nd The elf had spend the time in the cell sat crosslegged, golden eyes shut, after a few finger-clicks that cleaned the patch she was sitting on. With zero hesitation, the elf claimed one of the chairs. She leaned forward, curiously peering at his scar. "I see the origin of your name," she said. "It is very apt." She was silent for a second as she leaned back into it. "I was given a recommendation to stay there. I have thought about this. I suspect the recommendation was given for mischevious purposes. During the night, I was stabbed by people who were not the other people here. As everyone present seemed to be engaged in combat with that group, I considered it the current activity and did so as well. There was also a giant skull for some reason for a while, and then there wasn't." She frowned. "Your cells are uninteresting to be in. Currently, I have not had good impressions of this city's places to stay."

Spoiler: OOC

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