Aio tried to take off from the boat but the mist weighed her down and she couldn't get any leverage. Panicked by her inability to fly and her proximity to so much water, she retreated into herself and concentrated on her breathing to calm her down. After her she had calmed herself enough, she looked at the other members of her party, trusting in them to guide her on terra firma. She heard the haunting voice from ahead of them and her feathers ruffled on the crown of her head. 

Wasn't that what he mob was saying? Why would the mob be out here? How would the mob be out here? Is he causing this unnatural mist?

Aio looked to her companions, head cocked to the side in question. The question was obvious. What do we do?

(OOC: I went with Aio being grounded by the mist because her flying might be a little OP at the moment. I hadn't thought much about the utility it would provide outside of combat, so I didn't understand how much it could break the story. I mean, she would likely have just flown out of the city by herself in the first place if the goal was to get to Salvadar. Trying to make it not so broken. I'll impose some sort of flight limitation on her once we're through the fog.)

Dahme'dre stands and looks at the figure. Her voice booms. And her eyss glow with a powerful light as she speaks. She is Ready to Blast the other boat if they bar passage.

"We will return! We will bring justice! The mockery of order we see here tonight will be laid low! The time for order and law is upon us! Let us pass!"

(Persuasion: (1)24)

Erdan will say, quietly "We will not stand in the way of true justice. We will stand in the way of false justice!"

((You can fly around if you want to Aio, no problem. Sorry, my specific concern was that I thought you were saying Aio could perform a short-rest by flying around for an hour. I'd prefer flight generally took place in fairly short bursts for now, growing longer as you level up. Your flying speed is 50 ft a round, so you fly at about the speed of a bicycle. If you decided to fly all the way to Salvadar by yourself, it would take a while and basically be a separate adventure just for you. ))  

The a dry, rasping chuckle pours from the mist before you, "Law and order? True justice?" the figure in the boat asks as it drifts closer, its features beginning to resolve and become distinct as the mist clears slightly. "I like that," the voice barks sounding pleased, if it is possible for a sepulcher to sound pleased. "Stay your spell, Lady Witch, you are among... friends." 

The mist clears slightly and the figure before you becomes distinct. He is wearing the rusted, dented and battered uniform of a watch captain, the breastplate still showing signs of the original gold but with three deep gouges across the Thar city crest. His pants and shirt have largely rotted away, leaving only scraps in the town colors. The feather which traditionally marks the watch helmets to denote rank is now but a thin stem, a dark mockery of its former self. He is also clearly, unmistakably and horrifically dead. A bloated blue face gazes with empty eye sockets blazing with green witchfire from within the helmet, bones are visible where flesh has completely fallen away and a miasma of rot and horror hang over him. The fog of the district hangs over him, flowing behind him like a cloak to spread out over the surroundings. 

As he says the last comment, the mists recede slightly from around the boat and you are able to glimpse for the first time what is below you. Your eyes are met with the dead. Dozens of them. They stand on what was once the city street, their features twisted into the horror of death from drowning, disease or violent looting. Men, women, children, in varying states of decay stands in ranks directly beneath the boat, a short kick of decayed limbs from surging upward and over it. Horribly, unnervingly still, they form a silent horde. 

"You have been judged and found innocent of that which has befallen us," the figure rasps, "but justice is coming to the guilty and if you are committed to justice, to law and to order as you say, you could serve as its instruments."  

Aio saw the undead surrounding the boat and in front of her and immediately retreated into herself and began meditating. She also clutched at the deed at her belt, making sure it was still there. 

"Have you been waylaying Bruja's boats en route to The Wall's End?" Dahme'dre asks as she lets her bolt fade, and picks up her guiding tune once again.

"As what's instruments?"

(Sorry, catching up on yardwork.)

Valen tries to keep an eye on all possible targets. With so many standing against them, it wasn't prudent to attack, yet they didn't seem intent on attacking..."Let's start with a basic question: Who are you and is this thing before us Master or Puppet?" Valen remembered the twitchy zombie-rat and how it served as messenger.

((Sorry all, in France this weekend and so a bit sporadic post-wise.)) 

The dead man before you sits eerily still under the barrage of questions, only the green light of his eyes moving to track each speaker in turn. 

His head slowly pivots, first to Dahme'dre. "The boats of the half-man and one and a half man profiteers?" he asks, his voice dry and expressionless. "They may have fallen at the hands of my brothers, but not by their will." 

Next, he turns to fix Valen and Erdan with his empty, glowing sockets. "We were the tools of Jackiro," he says. As that name leaves his mouth, a loan moan of anguish and anger echoes up from below. A glance down reveals every staring, empty eyed corpse waiting under the boat has their face twisted upward, hatred and pain twisting what is left of their features into an even more hideous visage. 

The former watch captain in the boat does not look angry, in fact his expression does not change. He speaks as if he is stating simple facts. "The neglect which led to the drowning in this district was abominable, but the neglect of the city in its wake was a cruelty and injustice on a scale undreamed of beyond the Abyssal or Infernal Planes," he rasps. "The dead were beyond number, and their passing was not swift, not just and not forgivable. That kind of violation lingers. It stains the stones. It infuses the waters."

 "Jackiro Trent was a minor necromancer, little more than a dabbler who would ordinarily never rise above skulking in graveyards," he says, "but in the drowned quarter, the dead did not lie easy. We called out to be awakened, the horrors of our final days, minutes and hours trapping our souls, and the indifference of our city providing us the rage we needed to rattle the shackles of our cast off mortal coils."

The words of the undead hit Aio and she can picture her tribe below the surface of the water. Her heart aches. 

"What would you have us do?" She asks the undead guard, uncharacteristically vocal.

"Troubling times... We cannot make right your injustices, but our mission is to see these events cease to continue. We will free the people of the shackles of the city walls. We will visit this Jackiro, and end his control here, as it seems we must. In time we will see your souls laid to rest, if we can."

"Huh," Valen grunts, "Seems we've reached an impasse. My Order is sworn to heal and protect, and I take these charges dutifully, so please don't take this the wrong way: Why should we?" Quirking an eyebrow, he leans over the edge and focuses on the corpse, "This city has done nothing but try to kill us for things we have either no connection to or were brought into by now-removed parties. I'm all for helping, but in the grandest picture, why are we risking our lives except for a pat on the back and the gratitude of hundreds of souls."

His argument does not seem to be forming as he wished, but this choice was usually answered by  crusading heroes seeking to destroy evil, or by oppotunistic rogues looking to gain profit and a bit of fame. He was a travelling envoy of an isolated order of warrior-priests; what reason did he have to free the souls from a third of a city that he had no reason to care about? Further, he had been given no reason to care about a city that tried to kill him teice in a single day from two unrelated parties, save for that tavernkeeper and his barmaid.

He thought back for a moment to the angry crowd pursuing them. They were the only thing driving him to say 'yes'. However, this was a dangerous road. Battle and The Bastion taught him that there is a very fine line in war between justice, honor, and revenge. Revenge for honor is not always just, sometimes exacting revenge dishonorably furthers justice, and many times acting honorably for justice means never getting revenge. It was all too gray and fluid. That's why The Bastion isolates itself; that's why he would rather isolate himself from this city and it's problems.

(If we don't stop Jackiro he will seize control of the army below us before we can escape.)

(I was under the impression jackiro was losing control and the dead were taking over. In order to stop the undead from destroying the city, we would need to help jackiro regain control and put the undead down)

The wasted, wretched features of the guard captain twist into a grim parody of a pleased expression at Aio's question. "Why, nothing onerous," he says softly, "we have slipped the limits of Jackiro's control and the ritual he wove wakes more of my brothers and sisters every hour. We have broken his hold, and all his desperate conjuring will not restore it."

He gestures to the city somewhere lost in the darkness, and the distant lights of the palace on the hill overlooking it. "Soon, our numbers shall be sufficient to wash over first Jackiro's pathetic wards and then the palace, tearing the decadent monsters who left us to drown, starve and wither down from their fists and then limb from limb." His eyes glow a bright, intense green as he says this last part. 

Reaching into his robes, he produces a small coin etched with mystic symbols. He tosses it into your boat, where any of you can pick it up should you so choose. "We will leave you to your journey, and that we do when we could have dragged you to share eternity with us in these depths should speak to our integrity," he says, before indicating the coin, "I ask only a small favor. Should you encounter Jackiro before his demise and he entreat you for assistance against us, cast this coin at his feet when you refuse. Let him know that the very arcane locus he used to bind me now lies useless and that his hour will soon be upon him." 

(( It might be more fun to have some of these discussions you're currently having OOC, in character. Not going to force it or anything, but it seems like it might be a good way to further flesh out your characters and get some intra-party roleplay going :D ))

Dahme'dre wears a mask of calm as she turns slowly to the men at the oars to proceed.

Only when we are clear of this group does she speak. "Well... That went well..." She frowns and sits.

"I'd sooner not resign the city to destruction. Likewise, I have little wish to aid in raising the dead... Restoring peace to the world beyond these walls will be a worthless victory if the next dawn sees a new horror, as growing armies lay waist to humanity... Something must be done."

She stands again and looks ahead as her cloak and hair ride on an unnatural wind. "Shall we go pay Jackiro a visit?"

(I would, but Aio is the silent type. Would be a bit out of character.)

"Thank you." Aio said with a nod of her head. She urged the others to continue rowing away from the rock with the undead captain. 

The city will be burned to the ground and overrun by undead. Jackiro is probably the only one who can stop this. They're after him, though. It looks like his chickens have come home to roost.

"I think I know where Jackiro is. Follow me." Aio whispered softly in Dahm'edre's ear before taking off into the sky.

Aio flew above the group in their boat, finally able to do so now that he mist had fled. She directed them toward the building with the green brazier.

Erdan will pick up the coin and examine it once out of sight of the undead. (Investigation or Arcana? I'm not trained in either. 7)

 "While I am not happy with our current reception in Thar, I do not believe we should leave the innocent to suffer this potential onslaught. We should see if we can help Jackiro." 

The army of wretched dead beneath the boat make no move to stop you all as Haseren and Valen's steady strokes of the oars guide the boat past the silent watch captain and into the mist. Long tense moments of silence follow as the boat glides forward, until the mist begins to clear and you emerge into the night once more. 

Erdan, you pick up the coin and examine it carefully. It is a large coin from a past era, a 5gp denomination, with the face of an Emperor now long dead. Subtle scratches have altered the monarch's head, lending it a skeletal, cadaver-like appearance through skillful application of new shadows and lines. Around the head, are a set of runes in a language you cannot read. Focusing your arcane senses, you detect some largely latent magic on the coin, unsurprising given its providence and the circumstances by which you acquired it, but you lack the expertise to definitively conclude anything more. 

Aio, you take to the sky. The flooded district is dark at night, so charting a path is difficult but you believe you can see a way to navigate toward the faint glow of the green brazier you spied earlier. The most obvious route to the Wall's End, with its bridge onto the gate lies past the brazier-lit structure, but with some effort you believe you could find another navigable route through darker parts of the district. 

Dahme'dre, you stand on the prow of the boat with a wind no one else feels weaving your cloak into an aura around you. By concentrating, you can keep your eyes on Aio and guide the boat to follow whatever course she charts through he district. 

Valen and Haseren, you guys are on the oars. Aio, Erdan and Dahme'dre have suggested the party visits Jackiro a visit. Is that where you direct the boat? 

Aio carefully guided the group through the night toward the glowing green brazier she had seen earlier. She notes, in passing, that she can see other ways to leave the city besides the huge bridge and catalogs them in case they need an alternate method of escape.