It's been about two tendays since CRAP put an end to the double plot being weaved by a local group of Zhentarim spies. It would be hard to claim that Phlan is prospering, but things have generally fallen back into their status quo over these two tendays:
The wave of burglaries in town has come to an end ever since CRAP defeated the gang of lycanthropes lead by the werebear known as Mama. Moneus had expressed gratitude for the act but neither the Black Fist nor the Welcomers, the true benefactors of this destruction of this rival gang, have reached out to CRAP on the matter. Chances are they won't. Nonetheless, CRAP can rest assured that this source of violence in the city has been stifled.
Rumors say the the Black Fist continues to sail the corruption of everyday life in Phlan with impunity. Guards continue to take bribes to look the other way, shakedown businesses that don't pay protection money, and generally flaunt their effectively unrivalled domain over the lower ranks of the city. There are bright spots within the Black Fist -- Captain Aleyd H. Burral, for instance -- but rooting out the corruption from within is most definitely not the job for a single person and a few allies. At least not yet.
The Welcomers work from the shadows and paint themselves as the people's vigilantes. They fight back the small acts of exploitation Black Fist guards engage in but can't quite protect everyone in all the corners of the city. They have gained some following under this supposedly heroic banner, but they are not completely innocent either. Most, if not all, reported petty crime occurrences in town can be traced back to the Welcomers even now. Once a thief, always a thief, as some would say.
As general background, CRAP is also aware that Phlan has a thousand-year history of ascendance and collapse. Currently, it's experiencing tough times. Less than a year ago, the city's Lord Protector Anivar Daoran was killed in an apparent construction accident while inspecting renovations at Valjevo Castle. As far as CRAP can tell, Daoran wasn't much of a Lord Protector and he isn't widely mourned. Because he left no heir, the Knight Commander of the Black Fist, Ector Brahms, was declared the Lord Regent. Rumor has it that Brahms is an honorable but hidebound man, but this might just be his image as opposed to his true character. At the end of the day, Phlan has declined tragically under his guidance, and soldiers of the Black Fist effectively rule the city by martial law. They swiftly dispense punishment but seldom justice. Their increasingly harsh methods are failing to preserve law or order.
The Labor Guilds are tangled in a negotiation impasse with Phlan's leadership. Before his demise, Lord Protector Daoran had begun many construction projects around the city, renovating ancient buildings and reconstructing those damaged in recent wars. One such project was the city's Lyceum, which was being transformed into a health clinic of sorts after serving the worship of Bane for many years. Work on the Lyceum was stopped ever since Rillo Leadstopper sabotaged it by creating a sinkhole underneath the site. That's the official story, at least. Most other work has also halted since the city claims having no money to pay the Labor Guilds for their labor. Half-built structures can be seen across town, as can heaps of unused construction materials. A few privately-funded projects are still progressing, such as the Leadstopper Home under the care and investment of CRAP itself.
General trade has restarted again once the mysterious attacks from the sea ceased. That said, trade volumes at the port have still not fully recovered, leaving merchants with few legal ways to make a living on top of the limited trade currently taking place. The Black Fist and the Welcomers blame each other's criminal activities for the slow pace of commerce, although it is generally understood that the Labor Guilds themselves are not strange to some racketeering. The Black Fist's methods have made it the people's enemy instead of their guardian, so some politically-minded folk have retreated into relationships with the Welcomers or the Labor Guilds for survival, in a fluid "least of three evils" sort of approach. Among the Black Fist, the Labor Guilds (chiefly stonewrights, carpenters, ironhands, and merchants) and the Welcomers, these organizations are constantly at odds with one another over power in the city and, aside from limited exceptions among the guilds, are completely unable to cooperate for the betterment of Phlan.
CRAP has heard no word on the street regarding movements from the Zhentarim. As far as CRAP and their trusted contacts can tell, that faction's activities have been muted for the last tendays.
News regarding the Cult of the Dragon have been scarce as well, since their defeat in the depths of the Quivering Forest on the hands of a large expedition lead by the Brokengulf and Silmerhelve noble houses. CRAP is well acquainted with this expedition as well.
It is a hot sunny morning with mostly clear skies in Phlan. Many city folk have gathered in front of the temporary gallows, though some seem to now be convinced the structure is likely to be permanent. Many Black Fist guards stand watch during today's event. Captain Aleyd H. Burral and Lieutenant Cron Bolver preside over the execution. Representatives from Houses Brokengulf and Silmerhelve, including Ekmong and Lady Dala, have been given a place of honor in a brand new set of stands, a recent addition to the gallows within Podol Plaza.
Utar, Doozey, and Neya have been given a secondary place of honor. They are not in the VIP stands but in the front row of the general public area. On stage, in addition to the captain and the lieutenant, Doomguide Yovir Glandon provides religious guidance to the souls who are about to leave their bodies. The sermon is a bit long and somewhat lost on those that don't closely follow Kelemvor's teachings. Least interested of all are the two convicted individuals. Both Buhrell Caah and Chaab the Spy have been accused of treason, murder, and conspiracy to assassinate a noble.
The last person on stage is today's especial appointee to the position of executioner. Graxx stands proud to the side of all others, waiting for his orders to carry out the sentence.
(OOC: Please go ahead and describe what your characters are doing and thinking in these circumstances. You each may have acquired/bought some new items during downtime, so you may want to describe what you character looks like for the benefit of your fellow players.)
At first glance, Neya appears to be another face in the crowd. Her clothes are fashionable and appropriate and her figure is slim, but slightly toned. That is merely a facade for someone who has spent years of her life honing her body into a weapon in and of itself.
However, at the moment, the only thing occupying her mind and attention is the spectacle in front of her. It still seems like not too long ago that the doomed souls in front of her have aided in averting a calamity virtually in Phlan's backyard. At the same time, they had also participated in a tragedy not long after. Had things been a little different in that situation, she and the rest of CRAP may have been in the same predicament. The conflicting feelings of respect and betrayal have gone through her head a number of times. In an effort to sort them out, she has picked up a constructive hobby.
In the end, she had come to terms with the fact Caah's and Chaab's paths had come to an end. An example of the ruthlessness of the hands of fate when the circumstances force the reversal of fortune.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Doozey stands largely at attention throughout the entirety of the proceedings. While not exactly the type to enjoy such things, neither would he let show weakness in character in how he held himself during them. At least unlike with the gnome, he thought, the pair had rightly chosen this path, and were paying their dues as a result. Still, when Doozey looked at Buhrell Caah, and if she yet looked defiant to the end, some feelings began to mix uncomfortably in the stoutling's stomach. He could understand, if only adjacently so, the pursuit of justice at the behest of one's god. Despite the Creed, his own tenure among the rest was not so short as to not hear some of the grim extents a few members had gone to uphold it.
Nevermind those that eventually fell to corruption, be it within from changes done to the body or without, becoming in those instances the very thing they were supposed to destroy. Biscuit, having perhaps sensed like usual when his brother's grim thoughts, placed a heavy paw on Doozey's shoulder. Doozey looked up at that point, grinning faintly, but showing genuine thanks for the gesture. That's when his eyes fell upon the small keg and accompany contraption half-hidden in the fey-touched Tundra Mastiff's fur. A new edition, much like the added pouches at his belt containing various new forms of ammunition.
'Here's hoping we don't need it tho'He thought while turning back to the platform, adjusting the new headband of intellect, a camo colored length of cloth with intricate runes someone woven along the edges, to let a bit of air on his forehead. For all of his apparent attentiveness on things, Doozey's ears occasionally twitched while awaiting any signal from Gravy. Who just prior to their arrival in the area had been discretely summoned and tasked with keeping a bird's eye view from perch on a nearby building, watching for anyone matching the one-armed man's appearance in the crowd. After which time, he was to caw the word "Dead Man! Dead Man!" in doozey's voice as per Doozey's instruction, before flying to Doozey's shoulder.
Graxx stands with his arms crossed as he stares at Chaab. He looks the same as he did previously as he has not acquired anything new. His mind wanders...
Graxx imagines a final showdown between himself and the Drow. Graxx armed with his Pike and Chabb with his deadly daggers. A one-on-one fight to the death to settle their dispute once and for all with both on even ground. But... He knows that is not to be. No, the sentence has been passed and he will be delivering the final blow. Since Chaab is defenseless he will make sure to deliver the blow quickly and honorably.
Graxx looks over to Utar and he thinks back to when they found Chaab in a cage. Graxx should have trusted his first judgement and ended it then. Then maybe this plot would not have come to fruition. He will not be so quick to trust in the future.
Graxx tries to focus on delivering the blows cleanly as he does not want to look a fool in front of a crowd.
The last two tendays seem to have done Utar a huge amount of good. He no longer seems so troubled by his scars. His movements seem more fluid and his thoughts less clouded; only absently putting his hand to his neck the one time before checking himself and touching a hand to Lightbringer which once again hangs at his side. While the mace hangs as an old friend, Utar sports two new ones. His face features his fragment of the dragon mask, magically adhering over an eye, while a new, larger round shield hangs over his shoulder, a large cat's eye painted over the rondel... Did it just blink? Surely not...
Setting his face to a grimace so as to not to betray his feelings at having to watch another public execution, Utar cannot say he envies the position Graxx has. While he cannot say Chaab and Buhrell do not deserve their fate, the spectacle of a public execution, the helplessness before the sentence; they have his pity, but not so much as he does not want to to witness this. He prays for the strength of Graxx's arm, not that his friend needs it.
Standing in the square again, Utar's thoughts turn unbidden towards Rillo Leadstopper. He offers another prayer in his memory.
The CRAPers take in the event happening in front and around them at their own personal rates. While Neya pays close attention to the grim spectacle in front of her, Doozey can't help engaging in some surveillance work. Although the ranger is quite sure he can hear Gravy's every squawk, the expected key words have yet to be screamed by the black and brown bird. A much healthier Utar sets his face to a grimace and thinks of Rillo Leadstopper, while Graxx silently wishes he was able to deliver an end to Chaab on more even grounds.
Doomguide Yovir Glandon's sermon comes to an end. The crowd roars in response, not for the sage's wise words but for the indication that his silent brings: the execution proper is about to start. Captain Aleyd H. Burral steps up and clearly states the prisoners' names and the charges brought on them. Lieutenant Cron Bolver steps up next, not to be left behind, and confirms the guilty verdict delivered to the prisoners and their sentence: death by beheading. AHB turns to Graxx and nods, giving him the signal he had been told to look out for.
Graxx has been provided with an executioner's greataxe for this occasion. Its owner, the otherwise full-time executioner under the employ of the Lord Regent, was none too happy about being asked to sit this one out, but the man has no decision power on the matter. Buhrell Caah looks defiantly at the crowd. She repeatedly screams something about joining the hordes of Gruumsh. The crowd boos her loudly. Chaab has been expressionless for some time, but as the hour draws near, he is taking up a more pathetic, fidgety, and tearful behavior.
The crowd waits for Graxx to deliver the entertainment they were promised.
Doozey glanced back at the crowd, looking half disgusted by their excitement. But as he thought of all the things the common people were suffering through thanks to at least three factions unable to get their crap together....
'...Still no excuse' He still thought. And yet, his expression smoothed out into a more neutral one as he focused again on the platform. Just in time to see the first head roll...
Biscuit, on the other paw, had been staring and occasionally growling at the half-orc. Even despite the two weeks gap, he hadn't forgotten the harm the woman had done to both friends and brother alike.
Neya, had already seen a spectacle like this in Rillo's execution. She takes no pleasure in seeing the heads and bodies of the doomed becoming separate, again - She shudders to think of someone who does.
She also knows what will happen next. Again, as exemplified from Rillo's execution. To her, that is just more insult than justice to the punished.
She will never fully understand mob mentality, nor would she desire to.
A couple of Black Fist guards shove Caah toward a wide wooden block. She knows what she must do. Still screaming at the crowd as they roar back at her, the half-orc mercenary kneels and jerks her head as to throw her hair away from her neck before placing it on the block. CRAP expects someone to ask Caah for her last words, but she never stops barking: "I shall see all of you dirty dogs in the afterlife one day, where I shall hunt you in the fields alongside Gruumsh. Our warband will bring pain to you for eternity. No one shall escape..." and on and on. It seems that in her last moments, Caah has leaned more heavily on her religious belief, a trait she had always kept under wraps in past encounters with CRAP until recently. Perhaps that is not surprising. If she was indeed a mercenary looking after only herself, she would have found less work should her belief in Gruumsh be widely known. Folk don't usually look kindly at those who worship evil, violent deities.
Graxx wastes no time in walking up to the plate and raising his borrowed axe. In sharp contrast with Caah, the executioner for the day says no words. The axe falls and Caah's voice is heard no more. Utar prays, Doozey stares, Biscuit growls, Neya shudders, and the crowd roars.
The same guards now push Chaab forward. The usually serious and mysterious drow seems to be closer to his emotions at his final minutes. He reminds Graxx of the caged prisoner begging to be freed from Kuo-Toa grasp all that time ago. He whimpers and begs, bargains and cries. He gets no empathy from the Black Fists or the crowd. Delivered amidst tears and snot, Chaab's last words are unintelligible.
Graxx once more raises his borrowed axe silently, keeping to himself whatever words he might have wanted to say to the drow. The axe falls and Chaab's whimpering is heard no more. Utar empathizes, Doozey glares, Biscuit barks, Neya thinks, and the crowd roars.
Knowing what comes next, Aleyd, Cron, Yovir, and the guards waste no time in walking toward the back of the gallows and leaving "the stage". Aleyd signals for Graxx to do the same, and gestures for the rest of CRAP to quickly walk around the gallows to meet them on the other side. The crowd sees the departure of the authorities from the gallows as the signal they were waiting for. Rotten vegetables and foodstuffs, as well as whatever bits of garbage were at hand, begin to fly toward the corpses of Caah and Chaab. Some townsfolk have better aim than others, but soon, most of the gallows, as well as those standing near its front edge, are smeared with disgusting bits of putrid food and rubbish. CRAP escapes the smelly projectiles narrowly, although their boots can't fully avoid all of the mush that hits the ground about them.
At the other side of the gallows and far enough to avoid being directly hit now, CRAP meets up with Captain Aleyd and Doomguide Yovir. Lieutenant Cron Bolver did not stick around, and neither did his guards. Looking about, the VIP stands were also quickly emptied, although, by design, they were never in any danger of being hit by the projectiles.
"I'm glad that business is over with. Part of me had feared the evil doers would escape into the night and be a threat once more. Now there is certainly no chance of that."
Though likely with some difficulty thanks in part to the crowd, Doozey finds a moment to call out to Gravy in sylvan, requesting his return to the Ranger's side. In the meantime, as he knew navigating around the flying projectiles might take some time, the stoutling is right on everyone's heels, silently thanking Big Momma Yondalla for granting him the wisdom to buy actual shoes over the downtime.
Once with Aleyd and Yovir, Doozey tried to keep quiet and just observe for the moment. But when it appeared the party might not speak on certain matters, there's a grimace from the stoutling, preceding some clearly carefully chosen words. "Though I'd hate to interject, there's a matter of other business to speak of as well... namely that, if'n eitha of ya had plans of needing us for something after... might it wait a few days? We have some.... business needs tidying up before the situation gets worse."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"Perhaps one day soon" Aleyd responds to Utar's implied invitation. "Perhaps when we all have less things to worry about." Yovir focuses on Utar's second question: "I have been well, considering. Although my mind is occupied with worries of its own..."
Aleyd then agrees with Graxx: "I share your sentiment. Now, if you wouldn't mind..." She extends her hands, clearly asking for the executioner's greataxe. "I promised its usual wielder that I would see to its safe return." It is clear she also means to say that she can't stay for long.
With Gravy back on his shoulder and Biscuit just behind him, Doozey taps his fancy new boots in a gesture of appreciation. Sensing that Yovir's words may soon lead to a request for aid, the ranger preemptively asks for some additional time. The Doomguide nods sagely but doesn't say anything for now. Aleyd does not notice this, letting out a chuckle instead: "I'll soon have to recruit you all into the Black Fist, should I continue to ask you for favors." She places a friendly hand on Doozey's shoulder and adds: "My immediate concerns are a matter of my own. I shall not bore you with the wealth of red tape I have to deal with. In fact, I should probably go, return this axe, and then make sure Cron is not badmouthing me back at base." She says that last part with a little grin on her face. Unless she is interrupted, Captain Aleyd begins to walk away. "I still have that sending stone. I'll reach out if I need you."
Once she is away, Doomguide Yovir speaks again: "You must be able to read minds, for unlike the good captain, I do indeed have something to ask of you. But I don't supposed it is an emergency. Well, it hasn't grown to that point yet, so I guess I could wait a couple of days if needed."He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. "I was planning to post this bill somewhere in town, perhaps near the taverns. Since you have experience in the matter; however, I thought I'd give you the first opportunity to claim the job for yourselves." He hands the bill to whichever CRAPer would take it from him. The piece of paper reads:
WANTED: Holy Knights, Blessed Warriors of the Gods, and other bold slayers of the Undead. Reward commensurate with risk. For particulars, contact Doomguide Yovir Glandon at Valhingen Graveyard, City of Phlan
In the background, the crowd's roars and projectile-launching begin to die down.
"Blessed Warrior of the Gods... Well I like to think of myself that way at least"Graxx chuckles.
"Slayers of the Undead... Oh, killing that's fun."
"Reward. This sounds like something just up our alley."Graxx says to Yovir.
"Of course, if that's alright with yall" says Graxx to the rest of CRAP.
"By the way Doomguide would this mission have anything to do with catacombs or hidden caverns here in town? If not, have you ever heard of any?"asks Graxx.
Rubbing his chin, Utar agrees with Graxx. "We do occasionally resemble that description... In poor light... If you squint... But I think Doozey is right, we likely have another matter that requires attention before we attend to this. My apologies Yovir."
"I don't think Doomguide Yovir would have come to us first, unless he thought it was urgent." Neya puts in her two copper.
"We know full well where our errand lies and how to resolve it. Considering the current circumstances, we may have more time than we realize. With that in mind, I'm more leaning toward helping our friend before embarking on our personal adventure."
Doozey had simply nodded and bid the good captain a goodbye with a wave. After which, and given some others a time to speak, he looked to Utar, seeming just about ready to say something in follow-up to the half-orc's comments. However, Neya's last words leaves him frowning and narrowing his eyes up at the woman. "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss the other business not as urgent. Those folk have had mroe than enough time to brew something up far worse than what faced last. The longer we take at this point, the worse its gonna get." He said. Biscuit boofs and barks and growls a little Doozey, eliciting a deeper frown out of the stoutling.
But then with a huff he says, "Fine, fine.... You've made your point." Then with following a roll of his eyes, he crosses his arms, and looks up to Yovir. "So, Mr. Yovir... what are the details of this not quite emergency... thing. And where would be going?" He asked frankly, then furrowed his brow in thought. "Also.. uh.... just out of curiosity while we have ya... You wouldn't happen to know anything about a mysterious, magical pool said to used to be here in Phlan, would'ja?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
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EPISODE 9 - DUES FOR THE DEAD
INTRO POST (1/2)
It's been about two tendays since CRAP put an end to the double plot being weaved by a local group of Zhentarim spies. It would be hard to claim that Phlan is prospering, but things have generally fallen back into their status quo over these two tendays:
INTRO POST (2/2)
It is a hot sunny morning with mostly clear skies in Phlan. Many city folk have gathered in front of the temporary gallows, though some seem to now be convinced the structure is likely to be permanent. Many Black Fist guards stand watch during today's event. Captain Aleyd H. Burral and Lieutenant Cron Bolver preside over the execution. Representatives from Houses Brokengulf and Silmerhelve, including Ekmong and Lady Dala, have been given a place of honor in a brand new set of stands, a recent addition to the gallows within Podol Plaza.
Utar, Doozey, and Neya have been given a secondary place of honor. They are not in the VIP stands but in the front row of the general public area. On stage, in addition to the captain and the lieutenant, Doomguide Yovir Glandon provides religious guidance to the souls who are about to leave their bodies. The sermon is a bit long and somewhat lost on those that don't closely follow Kelemvor's teachings. Least interested of all are the two convicted individuals. Both Buhrell Caah and Chaab the Spy have been accused of treason, murder, and conspiracy to assassinate a noble.
The last person on stage is today's especial appointee to the position of executioner. Graxx stands proud to the side of all others, waiting for his orders to carry out the sentence.
(OOC: Please go ahead and describe what your characters are doing and thinking in these circumstances. You each may have acquired/bought some new items during downtime, so you may want to describe what you character looks like for the benefit of your fellow players.)
At first glance, Neya appears to be another face in the crowd. Her clothes are fashionable and appropriate and her figure is slim, but slightly toned. That is merely a facade for someone who has spent years of her life honing her body into a weapon in and of itself.
However, at the moment, the only thing occupying her mind and attention is the spectacle in front of her. It still seems like not too long ago that the doomed souls in front of her have aided in averting a calamity virtually in Phlan's backyard. At the same time, they had also participated in a tragedy not long after. Had things been a little different in that situation, she and the rest of CRAP may have been in the same predicament. The conflicting feelings of respect and betrayal have gone through her head a number of times. In an effort to sort them out, she has picked up a constructive hobby.
In the end, she had come to terms with the fact Caah's and Chaab's paths had come to an end. An example of the ruthlessness of the hands of fate when the circumstances force the reversal of fortune.
Extended Signature
Doozey stands largely at attention throughout the entirety of the proceedings. While not exactly the type to enjoy such things, neither would he let show weakness in character in how he held himself during them. At least unlike with the gnome, he thought, the pair had rightly chosen this path, and were paying their dues as a result. Still, when Doozey looked at Buhrell Caah, and if she yet looked defiant to the end, some feelings began to mix uncomfortably in the stoutling's stomach. He could understand, if only adjacently so, the pursuit of justice at the behest of one's god. Despite the Creed, his own tenure among the rest was not so short as to not hear some of the grim extents a few members had gone to uphold it.
Nevermind those that eventually fell to corruption, be it within from changes done to the body or without, becoming in those instances the very thing they were supposed to destroy. Biscuit, having perhaps sensed like usual when his brother's grim thoughts, placed a heavy paw on Doozey's shoulder. Doozey looked up at that point, grinning faintly, but showing genuine thanks for the gesture. That's when his eyes fell upon the small keg and accompany contraption half-hidden in the fey-touched Tundra Mastiff's fur. A new edition, much like the added pouches at his belt containing various new forms of ammunition.
'Here's hoping we don't need it tho' He thought while turning back to the platform, adjusting the new headband of intellect, a camo colored length of cloth with intricate runes someone woven along the edges, to let a bit of air on his forehead. For all of his apparent attentiveness on things, Doozey's ears occasionally twitched while awaiting any signal from Gravy. Who just prior to their arrival in the area had been discretely summoned and tasked with keeping a bird's eye view from perch on a nearby building, watching for anyone matching the one-armed man's appearance in the crowd. After which time, he was to caw the word "Dead Man! Dead Man!" in doozey's voice as per Doozey's instruction, before flying to Doozey's shoulder.
---> Gravy's Perception: 20.
---> Doozey's Perception(if necessary to hear the signal): 16.
Rough imagery for the new stuff:
Headband of intellect:
Biscuit's Keg of the Good Stuff(aka Biscuit's Brew of Benevolence):
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Graxx stands with his arms crossed as he stares at Chaab. He looks the same as he did previously as he has not acquired anything new. His mind wanders...
Graxx imagines a final showdown between himself and the Drow. Graxx armed with his Pike and Chabb with his deadly daggers. A one-on-one fight to the death to settle their dispute once and for all with both on even ground. But... He knows that is not to be. No, the sentence has been passed and he will be delivering the final blow. Since Chaab is defenseless he will make sure to deliver the blow quickly and honorably.
Graxx looks over to Utar and he thinks back to when they found Chaab in a cage. Graxx should have trusted his first judgement and ended it then. Then maybe this plot would not have come to fruition. He will not be so quick to trust in the future.
Graxx tries to focus on delivering the blows cleanly as he does not want to look a fool in front of a crowd.
The last two tendays seem to have done Utar a huge amount of good. He no longer seems so troubled by his scars. His movements seem more fluid and his thoughts less clouded; only absently putting his hand to his neck the one time before checking himself and touching a hand to Lightbringer which once again hangs at his side. While the mace hangs as an old friend, Utar sports two new ones. His face features his fragment of the dragon mask, magically adhering over an eye, while a new, larger round shield hangs over his shoulder, a large cat's eye painted over the rondel... Did it just blink? Surely not...
Setting his face to a grimace so as to not to betray his feelings at having to watch another public execution, Utar cannot say he envies the position Graxx has. While he cannot say Chaab and Buhrell do not deserve their fate, the spectacle of a public execution, the helplessness before the sentence; they have his pity, but not so much as he does not want to to witness this. He prays for the strength of Graxx's arm, not that his friend needs it.
Standing in the square again, Utar's thoughts turn unbidden towards Rillo Leadstopper. He offers another prayer in his memory.
The CRAPers take in the event happening in front and around them at their own personal rates. While Neya pays close attention to the grim spectacle in front of her, Doozey can't help engaging in some surveillance work. Although the ranger is quite sure he can hear Gravy's every squawk, the expected key words have yet to be screamed by the black and brown bird. A much healthier Utar sets his face to a grimace and thinks of Rillo Leadstopper, while Graxx silently wishes he was able to deliver an end to Chaab on more even grounds.
Doomguide Yovir Glandon's sermon comes to an end. The crowd roars in response, not for the sage's wise words but for the indication that his silent brings: the execution proper is about to start. Captain Aleyd H. Burral steps up and clearly states the prisoners' names and the charges brought on them. Lieutenant Cron Bolver steps up next, not to be left behind, and confirms the guilty verdict delivered to the prisoners and their sentence: death by beheading. AHB turns to Graxx and nods, giving him the signal he had been told to look out for.
Graxx has been provided with an executioner's greataxe for this occasion. Its owner, the otherwise full-time executioner under the employ of the Lord Regent, was none too happy about being asked to sit this one out, but the man has no decision power on the matter. Buhrell Caah looks defiantly at the crowd. She repeatedly screams something about joining the hordes of Gruumsh. The crowd boos her loudly. Chaab has been expressionless for some time, but as the hour draws near, he is taking up a more pathetic, fidgety, and tearful behavior.
The crowd waits for Graxx to deliver the entertainment they were promised.
While the baying of the crowd builds, Utar offers a prayer to Torm. One for swift justice, cleanly delivered and for the souls of those involved.
Graxx takes a deep breath before each blow and asks Tempus to guide his axe for a clean blow.
Graxx will raise the axe up and bring it down in attempted clean measure.(Not reckless since Graxx would be trying to be accurate).
9
15
Doozey glanced back at the crowd, looking half disgusted by their excitement. But as he thought of all the things the common people were suffering through thanks to at least three factions unable to get their crap together....
'...Still no excuse' He still thought. And yet, his expression smoothed out into a more neutral one as he focused again on the platform. Just in time to see the first head roll...
Biscuit, on the other paw, had been staring and occasionally growling at the half-orc. Even despite the two weeks gap, he hadn't forgotten the harm the woman had done to both friends and brother alike.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Neya, had already seen a spectacle like this in Rillo's execution. She takes no pleasure in seeing the heads and bodies of the doomed becoming separate, again - She shudders to think of someone who does.
She also knows what will happen next. Again, as exemplified from Rillo's execution. To her, that is just more insult than justice to the punished.
She will never fully understand mob mentality, nor would she desire to.
Extended Signature
A couple of Black Fist guards shove Caah toward a wide wooden block. She knows what she must do. Still screaming at the crowd as they roar back at her, the half-orc mercenary kneels and jerks her head as to throw her hair away from her neck before placing it on the block. CRAP expects someone to ask Caah for her last words, but she never stops barking: "I shall see all of you dirty dogs in the afterlife one day, where I shall hunt you in the fields alongside Gruumsh. Our warband will bring pain to you for eternity. No one shall escape..." and on and on. It seems that in her last moments, Caah has leaned more heavily on her religious belief, a trait she had always kept under wraps in past encounters with CRAP until recently. Perhaps that is not surprising. If she was indeed a mercenary looking after only herself, she would have found less work should her belief in Gruumsh be widely known. Folk don't usually look kindly at those who worship evil, violent deities.
Graxx wastes no time in walking up to the plate and raising his borrowed axe. In sharp contrast with Caah, the executioner for the day says no words. The axe falls and Caah's voice is heard no more. Utar prays, Doozey stares, Biscuit growls, Neya shudders, and the crowd roars.
The same guards now push Chaab forward. The usually serious and mysterious drow seems to be closer to his emotions at his final minutes. He reminds Graxx of the caged prisoner begging to be freed from Kuo-Toa grasp all that time ago. He whimpers and begs, bargains and cries. He gets no empathy from the Black Fists or the crowd. Delivered amidst tears and snot, Chaab's last words are unintelligible.
Graxx once more raises his borrowed axe silently, keeping to himself whatever words he might have wanted to say to the drow. The axe falls and Chaab's whimpering is heard no more. Utar empathizes, Doozey glares, Biscuit barks, Neya thinks, and the crowd roars.
Knowing what comes next, Aleyd, Cron, Yovir, and the guards waste no time in walking toward the back of the gallows and leaving "the stage". Aleyd signals for Graxx to do the same, and gestures for the rest of CRAP to quickly walk around the gallows to meet them on the other side. The crowd sees the departure of the authorities from the gallows as the signal they were waiting for. Rotten vegetables and foodstuffs, as well as whatever bits of garbage were at hand, begin to fly toward the corpses of Caah and Chaab. Some townsfolk have better aim than others, but soon, most of the gallows, as well as those standing near its front edge, are smeared with disgusting bits of putrid food and rubbish. CRAP escapes the smelly projectiles narrowly, although their boots can't fully avoid all of the mush that hits the ground about them.
At the other side of the gallows and far enough to avoid being directly hit now, CRAP meets up with Captain Aleyd and Doomguide Yovir. Lieutenant Cron Bolver did not stick around, and neither did his guards. Looking about, the VIP stands were also quickly emptied, although, by design, they were never in any danger of being hit by the projectiles.
Aleyd and Yovir allow CRAP to break the silence.
Utar hopes a little levity is not too disrespectful for the situation.
"How come we never get to gather together somewhere nice to enjoy ourselves? How have you both been since we were together last?"
Graxx shakes his head.
"I'm glad that business is over with. Part of me had feared the evil doers would escape into the night and be a threat once more. Now there is certainly no chance of that."
Though likely with some difficulty thanks in part to the crowd, Doozey finds a moment to call out to Gravy in sylvan, requesting his return to the Ranger's side. In the meantime, as he knew navigating around the flying projectiles might take some time, the stoutling is right on everyone's heels, silently thanking Big Momma Yondalla for granting him the wisdom to buy actual shoes over the downtime.
Once with Aleyd and Yovir, Doozey tried to keep quiet and just observe for the moment. But when it appeared the party might not speak on certain matters, there's a grimace from the stoutling, preceding some clearly carefully chosen words. "Though I'd hate to interject, there's a matter of other business to speak of as well... namely that, if'n eitha of ya had plans of needing us for something after... might it wait a few days? We have some.... business needs tidying up before the situation gets worse."
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"Perhaps one day soon" Aleyd responds to Utar's implied invitation. "Perhaps when we all have less things to worry about." Yovir focuses on Utar's second question: "I have been well, considering. Although my mind is occupied with worries of its own..."
Aleyd then agrees with Graxx: "I share your sentiment. Now, if you wouldn't mind..." She extends her hands, clearly asking for the executioner's greataxe. "I promised its usual wielder that I would see to its safe return." It is clear she also means to say that she can't stay for long.
With Gravy back on his shoulder and Biscuit just behind him, Doozey taps his fancy new boots in a gesture of appreciation. Sensing that Yovir's words may soon lead to a request for aid, the ranger preemptively asks for some additional time. The Doomguide nods sagely but doesn't say anything for now. Aleyd does not notice this, letting out a chuckle instead: "I'll soon have to recruit you all into the Black Fist, should I continue to ask you for favors." She places a friendly hand on Doozey's shoulder and adds: "My immediate concerns are a matter of my own. I shall not bore you with the wealth of red tape I have to deal with. In fact, I should probably go, return this axe, and then make sure Cron is not badmouthing me back at base." She says that last part with a little grin on her face. Unless she is interrupted, Captain Aleyd begins to walk away. "I still have that sending stone. I'll reach out if I need you."
Once she is away, Doomguide Yovir speaks again: "You must be able to read minds, for unlike the good captain, I do indeed have something to ask of you. But I don't supposed it is an emergency. Well, it hasn't grown to that point yet, so I guess I could wait a couple of days if needed." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. "I was planning to post this bill somewhere in town, perhaps near the taverns. Since you have experience in the matter; however, I thought I'd give you the first opportunity to claim the job for yourselves." He hands the bill to whichever CRAPer would take it from him. The piece of paper reads:
In the background, the crowd's roars and projectile-launching begin to die down.
Graxx looks over the paper.
"Holy Knights..." Graxx reads aloud.
"Blessed Warrior of the Gods... Well I like to think of myself that way at least" Graxx chuckles.
"Slayers of the Undead... Oh, killing that's fun."
"Reward. This sounds like something just up our alley." Graxx says to Yovir.
"Of course, if that's alright with yall" says Graxx to the rest of CRAP.
"By the way Doomguide would this mission have anything to do with catacombs or hidden caverns here in town? If not, have you ever heard of any?" asks Graxx.
Rubbing his chin, Utar agrees with Graxx. "We do occasionally resemble that description... In poor light... If you squint... But I think Doozey is right, we likely have another matter that requires attention before we attend to this. My apologies Yovir."
"I don't think Doomguide Yovir would have come to us first, unless he thought it was urgent." Neya puts in her two copper.
"We know full well where our errand lies and how to resolve it. Considering the current circumstances, we may have more time than we realize. With that in mind, I'm more leaning toward helping our friend before embarking on our personal adventure."
Extended Signature
Doozey had simply nodded and bid the good captain a goodbye with a wave. After which, and given some others a time to speak, he looked to Utar, seeming just about ready to say something in follow-up to the half-orc's comments. However, Neya's last words leaves him frowning and narrowing his eyes up at the woman. "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss the other business not as urgent. Those folk have had mroe than enough time to brew something up far worse than what faced last. The longer we take at this point, the worse its gonna get." He said. Biscuit boofs and barks and growls a little Doozey, eliciting a deeper frown out of the stoutling.
But then with a huff he says, "Fine, fine.... You've made your point." Then with following a roll of his eyes, he crosses his arms, and looks up to Yovir. "So, Mr. Yovir... what are the details of this not quite emergency... thing. And where would be going?" He asked frankly, then furrowed his brow in thought. "Also.. uh.... just out of curiosity while we have ya... You wouldn't happen to know anything about a mysterious, magical pool said to used to be here in Phlan, would'ja?"
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.